


Thing 2

by TheOneWhoSpillsWhiteRussiansOnHerself



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Bruce Banner Has Issues, Bruce Banner Is a Good Bro, Charles Always Says the Absolute Worst Thing He Could Possibly Say, Charles in a Wheelchair, Gen, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Pietro Maximoff Lives, Self-Harm, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2018-08-28 00:47:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 37,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8424163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOneWhoSpillsWhiteRussiansOnHerself/pseuds/TheOneWhoSpillsWhiteRussiansOnHerself
Summary: In which Steve Rogers and Tony Stark adopt the daughter of Alex Summers; fourteen year old Energia Summers, whom is so uncomfortable with herself that simple things like getting out bed and eating seem difficult. She finds herself having to deal with all of this by herself while she adjusts to a new school, a new home, and a new life. Guys, I can't write a decent summary to save my life. In this story there may be some subjects that some people may find triggering (such as self-harm and eating disorders), please proceed with caution and stay safe.





	1. The Very First One

I knew that I was facing the ceiling, and that I would be looking at it if I was to open my eyes. I had my earbuds in, Dr. Heckyll and Mr. Jive by Men at Work playing a bit too loud, I sang the words quietly, so that I wouldn’t disturb the other girls who lived in the room with me.  
I could hear the approaching clicking that came with Mrs. Collins. They were far away, but close enough that I knew she was approaching my room. There were other people with her, though I wasn’t sure how many because I didn’t really care. I rolled over, towards the wall, knowing that if I pretended to be asleep whoever was with Mrs. Collins would speak freely. She entered the room in about a minute, and I waited patiently for her to introduce the three of us. “Is Energia asleep?” she asked May, whose bed was closest to the door, instead. I was, or am, Energia.  
“I guess.” She replied, and I assumed she did so without looking up from whatever it was she was doing. I rolled my eyes without opening them and Mrs. Collins sighed.  
“This is May, this is Allison, and the sleeping girl in the back is-” she sighed “-Energia.” My name rolled off of her tongue in disgust. May and Allison said hello in an ‘I don’t really care, they’re not going to adopt me’ kind of way, then went back to doing whatever they were doing.  
“Um… is that a…” the voice was medium pitched, and obviously male. He was walking towards me. “That is!” he finally exclaimed. I was confused. “Why is she wearing and ace bandage?” I was slightly amused to hear worry in his voice. The ace bandage he was referring to was the one tied tightly around my eyes. This was to prevent me from opening my eyes and unleashing my eye lasers, to put it simply. They are lasers, but there’s bound to be some sort of science behind them.  
“No one really knows for sure, though the other kids throw around rumors.” Mrs. Collins replied. “She came home with it one, I want to say six years ago, and hasn’t really taken it of since. She’s fourteen now.” She added, answering the question completely. I was fighting to regulate my breathing, so that my sleeping charade was believable.  
“So she’s blind?” this voice was new, female, and curious. So they’re a couple? The couples were always intriguing, and usually disappointing.  
“Not necessarily,” was Mrs. Collins’ reply.  
“She isn’t really asleep, just so you know.” said third voice. He sounded smug, like he should be smirking, and I felt like I had heard his voice before. I was mad, he had just ruined a perfectly good thing for me. I huffed in annoyance.  
“Hello! I’m Energia Summers, you can call me Gia. I’m Italian.” I paused Radioactive, which was playing on my iPod, and shot my hand up in the air, hoping that someone would shake it. Someone did. Based on the handshake, which was extremely firm, it was the woman who spoke earlier.  
“I’m Natasha.” She said, I gave her my best fake smile, sitting up and removing my earbuds, “I’m Russian,” she added, to which I replied with a laugh.  
“H-How many of you there are?” I questioned, my voice shaking.  
“Four,” the first voice answered, and knowing that he hadn’t spoken, the fourth person said; “Hell-O!” I chuckled a bit under my breath.  
“I’m Tony,” said the smart-ass who blew my cover. “Stark, Tony Stark.” He replied after a moment. That’s what it is! He’s Tony fucking Stark. I thought. How I managed to not freak out about that is beyond me.  
“Steve Rogers,” said the first one.  
“Clint.” the fourth one said rather flatly, like he was ready to be out of here. I didn’t blame him. That was when I finally realized that I was talking to four of the Avengers, and I started to try and calm myself down before I let my fangirl show. I smiled again, a very fake but convincing smile.  
“Well hello Natasha, Tony Stark, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, and Clint.” I replied, which caused Clint to huff a bit in amusement.  
“If you’ll follow me, gentlemen and lady, we can move onto the next room.” Mrs. Collins interrupted. I sighed.  
“Bye,” they seemed to say in sync, and then I listened to them leave again, just as soon as they came. I put my earbuds back in and pressed play.  
No one in their right mind, no one out of their mind even, wanted me, The self-harming, fourteen-year-old girl with secret laser vision. I was stuck, you could call the adoption center my Purgatory. I was what you would consider a mutant, and if I opened my eyes beams of red energy shot out of them. I could barely see through it, and it was the single most destructive thing I’d ever experienced in my life. It happened while I was playing in the woods, I killed half of a forest. My wings were a different story, I didn’t even like to think about them. I had a bra-harness, as I liked to call it, that kept them hidden.  
Three hours and forty-nine songs later I heard the footsteps again. There was some whispering about my trust issues, and then Ms. Collins was ‘shaking me awake.’ But it wasn’t shaking me awake, because I was already awake. It was just hard for her to tell. “Hon?” she asked. “You awake.” her Brooklyn accent was over bearing. I was so thankful that I didn’t have one. “Hon?” she added after I didn’t respond.  
“I’m awake.” I groaned, not in a way that would make her think I was asleep, but in a way that let her know that she was getting on my nerves.  
“Hon, Mr. Rogers and Mr. Stark have adopted you.” her voice was calm and relaxed, but I sat up so fast that I got a head rush, and just about opened my eyes.  
“Um… what?!” I exclaimed, gagging on my saliva as I turning towards were her voice had been, in hoped of facing her. Someone laughed, which was followed with a “Tony!” from Natasha and the sound of a slap. “Is this some kind of sick joke?” I asked, my voice now traced with disgust and anger. “Because I swear-”  
“No, no, of course not.” Steve cut in, rushing to the side of my bed. “I’m not my husband.” He added.  
“Hey!” Tony yelled, which made me smile. We hardly ever had gay couples come in for anyone older than three. “No, he’s right. He doesn’t make sick twisted jokes like I do.” that made me chuckle.  
“Really?” I muttered, my head spinning. “Me?”  
“Yes.” Steve said, I like to think he was smiling. “Do you need help packing, um… Natasha offered.” He added. I smiled, this was decently real.  
“I did, or I am… offering.” Natasha added from where, I assumed, she stood neat Tony.  
“Today, this is happening today?’  
“Yeah, hon.” Mrs. Collins said, she was now closer to Steve than me.  
“Then I guess, help would be great.” I murmured, hoping that one of them could hear me. “There isn’t much, so it shouldn’t take too long.” I added, finding the ground with my feet and standing up. I walked to my dresser, and opened the top draw, ignoring Tony’s remark on my shortness. I heard Natasha follow.  
We packed all of my things in a grand total of forty-five minutes, and then I found myself squished in the back seat of the Stark 4, or whatever, with Natasha and Clint on my left. It was a very comfortable car ride. I was happy to be out of it.  
My room was on the thirty-third floor of the Avengers tower, and I couldn’t see it, but it felt huge. I had to follow the wall to the bed, and that took way longer than it should have. I could hear someone’s watch ticking by the door, so ‘settling in” wasn’t really settling in, but I didn’t really mind. I sat down on the bed, lost in thought for a while, I was overwhelmed. I was somewhere new, I’d be lost until I learned my way around, and I was this odd mixture of excited and terrified. Then there was a knock on the door frame.  
“It’s Steve,” he announced. So it was Steve? Thoughtful of him I suppose.  
“Hello, Steve.” I pulled my legs to my chest, and began to fiddle with the zipper on my boots. “What’s up, you know, beside the sky, and the ceiling, and the occasional goose?” my questioned earned a laugh, and then he sat down on the opposite side of the large bed.  
“I was just curious how this whole blind, or not opening your eyes, thing worked? Do you need a cane, or well a dog, or…” he trailed off and I sighed.  
“I’m not blind, I just can’t see.” I retorted bluntly. I hated when people asked me if I needed a cane. It drove me mad, and I couldn’t help that. I sighed, and faked a smile. “It’s a little more complicated than that.” I added.  
“How so?” he questioned, just as I knew he would.  
“I can’t say.” I replied. “I’m sorry… I just can’t.” I added, resting my head on my knees.  
“I won’t ask you anymore questions.” he said, which to be honest, I wasn’t expecting. “Tony probably will, but I won’t.” I smirked a bit.  
“Thanks,” I said, smiling a bit, and returning to sitting cross legged. “Anything else?” I asked, knowing there was something else.  
“There’s just a few more people you need to meet.” he said with a sigh. “It’s the twins, and Bruce… oh gosh, and Thor.” he added, I forced myself to laugh.  
“Hey, what’s four more people?” I stood up then, and followed the wall back to the door, Steve followed.

“Hello,” I said shaking someone's hand blindly. “Dr. Banner isn’t it?” he chuckled. Shit! Did I get it wrong?  
“You can call me Bruce.” he responded, his voice was easy to place; I had heard it before. On the TV maybe. I smiled another one of my fake smiles.  
“I’m Energia, but you can call me Gia.”  
The next person's hand I shook was very muscular and it almost hurt my hand; I knew immediately that it was Thor. “Good to meet you.” I said.  
“The pleasure is mine.”  
The interesting introductions were the twins, whom both sounded like they were Russian, I shook Pietro’s hand with a smirk, and then I shook Wanda’s. “Я надеюсь, что вы на самом деле два знаете русский язык, иначе это будет казаться действительно странным.” (I do hope you two actually know Russian, or else this is going to seem really weird.)  
“Мы делаем, но я удивлен вы это знаете. Это жесткий язык.” (We do, but I’m surprised you know it. It’s a hard language.) Wanda replied.  
“Ha!” interrupted the conversation. This came from Tony. “She knows Russian! Steve our daughter knows Russian.” Clint erupted into a fit of laughter, and Steve sighed.  
“Sorry, I had some free time over the summer.” I apologized.  
“So you learned Russian?” Natasha asked. If I remembered correctly, she was Russian.  
“Yes,” I replied, it really wasn’t that big of a deal. “What’s a third language?” Clint made this weird ‘huh’ noise. I smirked, sometimes I liked showing off a little bit.  
“Impressive.” Thor boomed, I cringed a little at how loud his voice was. I wanted to be alone again, but I didn’t want to make anyone mad.  
“Anyone have the time?” I asked,  
“Five twenty-seven, why?” Steve replied. We were all seated in a living room then, and I was feeling particularly awkward.  
“I just like knowing the time.” I replied, I was getting a little anxious.  
“Вы смотрите, как вам нужно некоторое время, чтобы быть интровертом. Вы хотите, чтобы я, чтобы избавиться от них ли?” Pietro leaned over and whispered. (You look like you need some time to be an introvert. Do you want me to get rid of them?”  
“Спасибо.” I replied, which translates to thank you.  
“Why don’t we let Gia settle in a bit?” Pietro suggested, I was extremely thankful for him just then. And most of the time.  
“Yeah, yeah, of course.” Steve answered, and I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding in. “Actually, that’s perfect. I have a meeting at S.H.I.E.L.D. Tony, can you show her o her room?” he asked as if I wasn’t there. I probably could have found my way by myself, but Tony’s help was definitely accepted.  
“Sure,” Tony replied, and he helped me up, linking our arms, and we were moving. “So you aren’t blind?” he questioned on the elevator.  
“Steve warned me about you.” I replied quickly. “And no, I’m not. I just can’t open my eyes.” I added, pulling my arm out of his because I didn’t need any help finding my way around the elevator.  
“Why not?”  
“It’s personal. I’d prefer not to talk about it.”  
“You can trust me.” he stated. Whether or not this statement was true, I didn’t know.  
“I can?” I asked sarcastically, just as the elevator stopped on the thirty-third. “Because I haven’t opened my eyes in six years. You think you can meet me, and get me to open them in less than twenty-four hours?” I added, probably too harsh. But he was Tony Stark, he could handle it.  
“Fair enough, fair enough.” he answered. “But I do have one, semi-personal question; why Russian and your accent it… Italian?” he asked.  
“Russian is just awesome, and Italian is my first language.” I replied as we walked from the elevator to my room. “My name means power.”  
Then we reached my room. “Bye.” I muttered, and walked in, leaving Tony, and closing the door in his face. I was actually kind of pissed. I mean, questions were one thing, but telling me I can trust him. I haven’t trusted anyone ever, he can’t say things like that, because I couldn’t. I physically couldn’t. I didn’t trust myself enough to trust. It was pathetic. I was pathetic. I sighed, and sat down on the floor, letting myself think.  
At six thirty Pietro came to tell me we were going out to dinner, this obviously wasn’t my favorite thing to do, because you can always feel people's stares, no matter if you can't see them.  
“Where are we going?” I asked as I was ducking into Steve's car.  
“It’s up to Steve.” Pietro said. “He’s driving.”  
“Who’s coming?”  
“You, me, Steve and Wanda. I kind of feel bad that Steve has to babysit the three of us.” he answered. I laughed a little. “But being bilingual, or in your case trilingual, pays off.” he added as he shut the car door. Then Steve and Wanda joined us, and we drove. I don’t know why we needed to drive, because Pietro was ridiculously fast, and it was a bad time to try and drive through New York City.  
We ended up at a place called Tom’s Diner, which I’m pretty sure Suzanne Vega wrote a song about. We were seated at a booth, I sat with Steve across from Wanda and Pietro.  
“Hello, my name is Marc, and I’ll be your waiter today. Can I get you started with drinks?” I jumped a bit as he spoke, I hadn’t heard him coming.  
“I’ll have a water, please.” Steve said, tapping his fingers on the table.  
“I’ll have a tea.” Wanda said, her voice flat.  
“Coke.” Pietro said, I heard Wanda smack his arm. “I’ll have a water as well.” He added after a moment’s hesitation. I chuckled a bit.  
“I’ll have coffee, black, please.” I said, and sighed in relief when he walked away.  
“You drink your coffee black?” Wanda asked. I nodded in response, because I didn’t like to speak if it wasn’t necessary.  
“Can… can you, um… read me the vegetarian options?” I asked Steve, I was slightly embarrassed, something I tried to ignore.  
“Of course.” he replied, opening the menu. “So, you’re a vegetarian?” he asked  
“Yeah.”  
“Well they have salads, obviously. They have a vegetable platter thing, and a tofu burger.” he replied. I smiled, going over the three options in my head, eventually deciding on salad, because tofu tended to be gross.  
Marc came back in five minutes with our drinks, and left with our dinner orders.  
“So the vegetarian thing?” Wanda asked, I could basically hear her mocking me.  
“Eight years.” I said, taking a sip of my tea and crossing my legs at the ankles.  
“That is decently impressive.” Steve muttered, taking a sip of his water. I smiled, and tried to hide my extreme discomfort behind my ace bandage. The good thing about my eyes being covered, is that my eyes don’t give away any of my secrets. “So… where ya from?” He added. I appreciated the effort.  
“I was born in Italy, but I moved here when I was, like, six or seven. I lived in Queens, Hell's Kitchen, and Brooklyn.” I replied, anxiously taking another sip of my coffee. Pietro chuckled, but I wasn’t sure why.  
“I’m from Brooklyn, too!” Steve exclaimed. I then chuckled as well.  
“Он всегда, как это?” (Is he always like this?) I asked the twins.  
“Довольно много, он любит Бруклин.” (Pretty much, he loves Brooklyn.) Pietro replied. I smiled.  
“That’s really cool,” I replied, without the heart to tell him I actually lived in Hell’s Kitchen longer, and that technically I was from Venice.  
Our food came in about fifteen minutes, and we ate in a semi-comfortable silence, except for the occasional scraping of forks on plates, which is a sound I hated. Steve drove Wanda back, and I convinced Pietro to speed me there. It excited me, and scared the hell out of me all at once. It was, in all seriousness, one of my best memories. Even though it only lasted a few seconds.  
“Oh my God! That was amazing!” I yelled as we stopped., because my ears needed to pop. “Oh my God!”  
“You’re screaming.” he said, which I could barely hear. I popped my ears.  
“That was… that was so fucking amazing!” I hugged him, I didn’t even have to see for it to be fantastic. I smiled, a real smile, for the first time in months. “Thank. You.”  
“You’re welcome, kid.” he replied, returning the hug in astonishment. I smiled into his chest. “And I don’t suggest cursing around Steve. He doesn’t like it that much.” I smiled again, this one being more forced than the others.  
“Got it.” I said, and then we waited for Steve and Wanda. I then told Steve I was going to bed, and went to my room. This time without any help, even though Pietro offered.  
I laid awake for at least an hour, just thinking, because I didn’t know what to think. I had been adopted, two of the people I lived with were mutants, and Steve was amazing. I was so in awe of the entire day, I had to process it; the fact that I was laying on a memory foam bed, in the Avengers Tower. I met Tony Stark for God’s sake! It was too much for me to process. I couldn’t explain my feelings if you payed me.

I woke up with a start, squeezing my eyes shut as I began blindly punching at whomever it was who was shaking me. “Whoah! Whoah! Whoah!” Natasha exclaimed. I stopped punching.  
“Sorry, I’ve been in some decently awful situations. Not a fan of being shaken awake.” I apologized. She chuckled.  
“I knew I liked you.” she replied. “You can punch.” she added with a huff. “Steve sent me up because he didn’t think you would be comfortable if he came.” I could hear the smirk.  
“I really am sorry.”  
“It’s fine, seriously.” she responded, her voice getting further away. “And I’m cleaning your ace bandage.” she added, my hand flying to my face. It wasn’t there! She took it! She took my bandage!  
Natasha was the first one to my bed, and she was yelling for the others. Pietro came next, followed by Bruce, then Steve and Tony, then Thor, and finally Wanda and Clint made it to my room. They all had very different footsteps, which I can’t believe I was able to place  
“What’s happening?!” Steve exclaimed, I couldn’t answer because my hands were pressed over my eyes, and I couldn’t breathe. They happened a lot, and for strange reasons.  
“She’s having a panic attack, Steve.” Bruce replied. I began to choke on my own breath.  
“Energia, hey, hey. It’s okay, you’re okay, calm down.” Wanda interrupted, putting her hands on either side of my face. “I want you to tell me three things you can hear,” she ordered.  
“Cars…” I muttered, my whole body shaking, I counted to twenty. “Steve’s watch ticking…” I added, my breath slowly coming back to me, I counted to twenty again. “And your heartbeat…” I finished, earning a slight gasp from Bruce. I counted to twenty a final time, and my breathing returned to normal.  
Wanda slowly removed my hands from my eyes, and I noticed the gasp. I didn’t know why, but my guess was the skin was bruised or something. “Oh God, I’m so sorry.” I muttered, my head was spinning. I was screwing my eyes shut.  
“You’re fine,” Wanda said, her hands still holding mine.  
“Can, um… c-c-can I-I have my b-bandage b-back?” I stuttered. My voice shaking.  
“Why don’t you just open your eyes?” I wasn’t paying attention to who was speaking.  
“You don’t really want me to,” I replied shakily. “please, Natasha, my bandage.”  
“It’s in the washing machine.” she replied. Then I heard something rip, and a piece of fabric was placed in my hand. I tied it around my eyes, as tight as it would before it became too uncomfortable.  
“Can I speak to you in private?” Pietro asked, suddenly close to Wanda, therefor close to me. “Can we speak to you in private?” he added after Wanda sent him a death stare.  
“Yeah,” I said, knowing there was no way that I could get out of it. And the next thing I knew I couldn’t hear Steve’s watch anymore. “Where are we?”  
“A training room?” Wanda replied. “The walls are made out of steel.” She added, which made we wonder what she knew.  
“Are the walls soundproof?” I responded, because they needed to be. I couldn’t trust them, all the way, but they were going to force me to trust them. I had to deal with that. Wanda assured me that it was soundproof, and so I removed the strip of fabric. “Mutation is a bitch.” I groaned. “You’re gonna want to stand behind me, and um, cover your ears.” I added, patiently waiting for them to walk around me.  
Then, for the first time in six years, I opened my eyes. I called the feeling ‘the knives,’ the gut wrenching, life destroying, vomit inducing pain that I felt in my eye balls. I couldn’t describe the pain, or my blurry red vision. I couldn’t describe how loud I was screaming, or the feeling of every bit of energy leaving my body. The worst part was how difficult it was for me to close my eyes again. Pietro was yelling in my ear, which normally would have been painful. I didn’t know where Wanda was, or even if she was still in the room, but regardless I used the last of my energy to close my eyes before collapsing on the floor.  
The whole scenario lasted less than two minutes, the whole thing completely unchanged in the past six years. “Oh my God!” Pietro yelled. “Oh my God! Oh MY GOD!” I could hear him pacing, or rather, I could feel the air the was left in motion as he blurred past.  
“I…” I tried to be a smart-ass about the whole thing and throw some sarcastic comment in his face, however I was unable to find the energy to speak.  
“Don’t speak,” Wanda ordered. So she is still here… I thought. “My God, mutation is a bitch.” She added, I couldn’t even find the energy to smirk. I wanted to bring up my wings, of course in a very sarcastic way, but I didn’t even try.  
I laid on the floor for a solid ten minutes, listening to Wanda’s heartbeat and Pietro’s footsteps before I finally muttered; “I… am going to… I’m going to need a glass of water.” and within seconds I had a glass of water. As I struggled to drink it as Wanda and Pietro talked in hushed voices somewhere on the other side of the room. I sat up slowly, trying to stand up completely.  
“Gia, just rest!” Wanda called from wherever she was, her voice pleading. I sighed, and returned to sitting as she returned to her hushed conversation. Every inch of my body felt as if I had been beaten up, then burned, and then frozen. I tried to take another sip of water, instead dropping the cup which resulted in the glass breaking.  
Right about then was when Clint walked in. There I was, covered in water, my eyes probably swollen, in fact it occurred to me that I probably looked like I was fourteen and drunk at ten in the morning. “What the hell happened to you?!” he exclaimed, his bow drops to the floor as he was by my side in seconds. “What happened to the wall? Maximoff’s!” I chuckled a bit. “What about this is funny?!”  
“I must look like a fucking beauty queen.” I muttered, using my right hand to attempt to massage a knot out of my neck. I wasn’t entirely sure where that came from.  
“What happened?” he demanded, his voice more serious than before (if that was even possible). Again I laughed.  
“I opened my Goddamn eyes.”


	2. The One Where Stuff Starts Happening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So um... excuse my typos, and I hope you enjoy.

I woke with a start, suddenly finding myself sitting up instead of laying down. The nightmare was the same each night, as it had been for the past two weeks-since I opened my eyes. It was my self-destructive mind forcing me to relive the experience every night, the forest, the training room, the pain. I’m not sure how you can feel pain in a dream, in fact I’m not sure that it’s possible, all I know is that somehow I relived that pain every night. It was the reason I relapsed, the reason I cut myself again after six months clean, it was the reason I wanted to crawl into a hole and die. “Are you alright, ma’am?” I pretty much jumped out of my skin.  
“My God, J.A.R.V.I.S!” I exclaimed, my heart still pounding. “You scared the shit out of me.” I added, throwing the covers off.  
“I’m sorry, ma’am.” he replied, but he wasn’t really sorry.  
“I’m fine, J.A.R.V.I.S,” I said, standing up and stretching my legs. “What’s the time?” I added, walking to my dresser and randomly grabbing clothes.  
“Six fifty-seven, ma’am.” I nodded, and walked into my bathroom. It’s a perfectly acceptable time to start the day. I thought. No, it’s not. It’s too freaking early! I needed to stop arguing with myself. So I got up and stumbled into the bathroom. I felt out my part and brushed my hair, throwing it into a ponytail, which probably looked awful. I got dressed in what felt like a cotton t shirt and blue jeans, then made my way to the living room, and trip which I could easily make then.  
“HELLO,” Thor basically yelled as I entered the room. “GOOD MORNING!”  
“GOOD MORNING!” I yelled back, that was our thing, we did it every morning, because I swear Thor didn’t sleep and he was always in the living room when I walked in. It drove Clint crazy, because Clint liked to sleep.  
“Tony is looking for you.” he replied, quieter than I would expect.  
“Why is Tony looking for me?” I countered. It was never a good thing if Tony was looking for me. Tony was annoying.  
“He said, and I quote; ‘If you see Energia, tell her I’m looking for her. She needs clothes and I’m the only one around here with money.” His statement isn’t necessarily true, but-”  
“I get it, Thor, thank you.” I said, cutting him off. He chuckled, and I flashed him a fake smile. “I’ll check the lab.”  
Tony’s lab was a place I immediately learned how to get to, because he was constantly sending me on food runs for him. It was a simple trip though, fourth floor, two rights and one left once off of the elevator. “Yo Tony!” I yelled in a fake Brooklyn accent, which was something I did a lot. I was approaching his lab. I heard something metal hit a metal table.  
“I’m coming to you, Gia, stay where you are!” he yelled in response. I tapped my foot and waited for him to find his way to the hallway. “What’s up?” he asked, I shrugged.  
“Thor told me that you want to take me shopping.” I said. “Tony, please don’t make me go shopping.” I added quickly.  
“I’m sending you with Wanda and a credit card.” he retorted. I sighed, there was no way that I could get out of this. “You’re leaving in twenty.” he added. I mentally face palmed, and then left him there in hopes of finding Wanda in the living room.  
“Wanda!” I yelled, walking into the living room. The only response I got was Clint yelling from somewhere else in the tower:  
“SHUT THE FUCK UP! IT’S SEVEN A.M!” I chuckled a bit to myself, stumbling into the kitchen and taking a seat on the barstool closest to the wall. I had managed to convince Clint to keep his pie hole shut about my eyes, with the twins help in course.  
"He’s not a morning person.” Steve muttered as he entered. “Regardless, he didn’t need to curse.” he added. This also made me chuckle.  
“He didn’t.” I agreed, because I didn’t feel like defending Clint, mostly because he was annoying. “Have you seen Wanda?” I asked, sighing. “Apparently she’s taking me shopping.”  
"You do need clothes.” he responded. “But, Wanda is probably in her room.” he added as he opened the refrigerator.  
"I haven’t actually been to Wanda’s room.” I murmured in disbelief, Wanda had become my best friend in the two weeks that I had been there (Apart from J.A.R.V.I.S, who wasn’t a real person, and that made me feel like a total loser).  
"Really?” Steve said, in my mind he was furrowing his eyebrows. “Juice?”  
“Sure.” I responded with a fake smile. “I’m supposed to leave in, like, fifteen minutes. Tony’s orders. Because apparently I need clothes and he’s the only one with money.” he handed me a cup of, based on the smell, apple juice, and sat on the stool next to me.  
“That’s not really true. Bruce has money, and Clint has money. Heck, I have money. Not that much but some-”  
"-You all have money. I know that. But not everyone has Tony Stark money, and I need a pair of boots that’ll last longer than six months.” I retorted, cutting off his rant. He laughed and patted my shoulder. I chuckled, taking a sip of my juice and standing up again. “I should go find Wanda.” I added with a small chuckle.  
“Have fun shopping.” he remarked as I was leaving.  
“If that's even possible.” I retorted, and then I was walking towards the elevator. The Maximoff’s are on the forty ninth floor, right? The only problem being that there were so many doors that I would have to knock on. I counted the buttons until I found forty-nine button, then I punched it and waited. I found her in the hallway.  
“I was just coming to find you.” she said, clasping her hands together based on the sound of it. “Tony has demanded I take you shopping.” she added. I chuckled.  
“I’m very aware.” I replied. “But this is good for both of us, mostly because he gave the credit card to us both. Now I’m not saying we spend hundreds of billions of dollars…” I trailed of and she was laughing.  
“Spoken like a true teenager.” she replied, then she grabbed my wrist, which was slightly painful, and pulled me towards the elevator.  
“It suits you.” Wanda exclaimed, patting me on the back. “You look completely bad-ass.” I smiled, a real smile. Teeth and all.  
The ‘it’ she was referring to was a brown leather jacket, or so she told me, that was similar to the one that Steve apparently wore. I didn’t necessarily like the idea of wearing the same jacket as my ‘dad,’ but for some reason it felt right, the jacket, not twinning with my guardian. It would hide the straps of the harness I had to wear in order to freak people out with my wings. I tried not to think about them, people don’t like people who are different, so I tried not to be different. One of my foster mother's made the harness, and it did it’s job. I did this little fist pound thing, and slid the jacket off, it fit me extremely well. She giggled, that was the only time I ever heard Wanda giggle. “Oh God, how much is it?”  
“It doesn’t matter, remember?” she retorted. “Tony said not to worry about it.” she added, her voice traced with mischief. I chuckled a little bit at the excitement.  
“Yeah, well, it won’t stop me from worrying.” I retorted. “Where to next?” I added, knowing that I couldn’t win that argument. She chuckled and began to pull me again.  
“We have to pay for the jacket, obviously.” I stumbled to keep up with her. I only noticed we were at the checkout counter when I, being the clumsy idiot that I am, made a complete and utter fool of myself by running into one of those columns that tended to live in the middle of stores. It was painful.  
“Shit!” I cursed, rather loudly, seeing as though I had smashed my nose and it hurt. The guy, at least I assumed it was a guy, laughed at me, and Wanda muttered something in Russian that roughly translated to; “My God, Gia.” I laughed at myself, and then at her comment, backing away from the pole thing, and moving closer to Wanda.  
“Will that be it for you today?” the bozo behind the register asked with a bit of a snicker. I scowled, not entirely sure who the hell he thought he was.  
“Yeah,” Wanda replied, and I heard clicking, and card swiping, and then I was being pulled out of the store. “You’re ridiculous.” she added as we were entering another mystery store, it smelled like a shoe store.  
“It’s not my fault!” I exclaimed. “If anything you should have stopped me.” I added with a small chuckle. “Are we in a shoe store?”  
“Yes, yes we are.” she replied, not seemingly impressed by my guessing skills. “You said something about boots to Steve, who had Tony text me about it, so…” she trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished, and I was left to wonder what followed “so.”  
“Okay.” I replied with a smile that was basically a smirk. “So we’re here for boots?’’ I asked, just trying to figure out how long I had to be in this store before we moved on. I hated shopping.  
“Yes,” she replied. “And tennis shoes, and sandals, and one pair of dress shoes that Tony is insisting you have for formal events. Which I am very sorry about.” I groaned in a way that screamed ‘get me out of the fucking mall’ without actually screaming it.  
“We can start with the boots. We’re looking for brown leather, right?” she said, ignoring my complaint completely.  
“Faux leather.” I corrected. “But, yes.”  
“Right…” she muttered. “Size.... eight! There we go.” she was kind of yelling, which made me blush. Wanda was embarrassingly loud. “Try these.” I found a seat, and untied the boots that I already owned. By the feel of it, they were falling apart and basically dying.  
“They fit fine.” I replied, slipping into the second boot, not bothering to lace them up yet.  
“That’s good.” she responded, her voice slightly farther away than it was before.  
“What are you doing?” I asked, knowing she was moving on to another section of shoes. “Wanda?” I called, slightly louder this time.  
“I’m finding a pair of dress shoes!” she yelled back. “I don’t like shopping any more than you do.” she added, her voice gradually getting closer. She handed me a box, which I opened carefully, putting the heels on my feet. I hated high heels, because I couldn’t see and I had issues with balancing. I stood up, wobbling a bit, before straightening my legs awkwardly. Wanda laughed under her breath.  
“They fit, can we leave now?’ I exclaimed.  
"I won’t make you try on the tennis shoes, because they only cost forty dollars and you have reliable feet.” was her reply. “So yes, we can go.” I smiled, thanked her half a million times, and then we checked out.  
“I seriously don’t need clothes.” I muttered, adding yet another bag to my armful of bags. “I mean I do need clothes, because of public indecency laws, but I have clothes already.”  
“We’ve only been in five stores.”  
“That’s a lot of stores, Wanda!” I exclaimed, throwing my hands up in the air, which was an awkward action. She chuckled, but she knew I was right. If my arms were completely full of bags, we’d one enough shopping. “I have more clothes in my arms that I currently own!” she sighed, and I smirked.  
“Fine, we’ll go back to the tower.” she said, I would have first-pounded in victory, but I decided that doing so would be dangerous with the amount of shit I was currently carrying.  
“Thank you!” I exclaimed, trying not to sound too excited. I had to keep my cool, that was my thing. That and shooting lasers from my eyeballs.  
We got back to the tower around one o’clock, which is way later than I wanted to get back. I rushed to my room so that I could unpack all of the shit that I had just wasted Tony’s money on. Most of it was shirts, a few pair of pants, the jacket, and the shoes. But there was so much of it. It didn’t take too long to sort it and put it away, actually it took less time than I was anticipating.  
I was in this weird sort of mood, I was kind of shaky and my breath was uneven. I was feeling so many emotions that I wished I could turn them off, and I was way too tired to understand why. So, being me, I flopped down on my bed and buried my head in the pillow, I genuinely loved to sleep, more so than usually though, because I wasn’t getting enough of it.  
I took that opportunity to sleep, which I was hoping would last a solid hour or two.  
It lasted five.

I found myself being shaken awake, surprisingly enough by Steve, who informed me that Tony had ordered take-out. I laughed as I remembered that none of them could actually cook without the fire department getting involved. “What’d he order?” I questioned, as we exited the elevator. Tony (being Tony) liked to hide meat in my food to see if I’d notice. Tony was an asshole.  
“I’m pretty sure it’s pizza that he paid too much for.” this also made me laugh, something I found myself doing more often. I could hear Clint and Natasha arguing over something (probably of minor importance) and Tony singing some ridiculous song about cake in the rain, before we even entered the dining room. I’ll admit, this was only slightly out of character for Tony.  
"Great,” I muttered, hoping that Steve couldn’t hear me after I said it. The last time we had pizza I discovered multiple pieces of pepperoni rolled up inside the crust of my pizza. Steve, who did in fact hear me, just chuckled as we finally walked into the kitchen.  
“Someone left the cake out in the rain! AND I DON’T THINK THAT I CAN TAKE IT! BECAUSE IT TOOK SO LONG TO BAKE IT! AND I’LL NEVER HAVE THAT RECIPE AGAAAIIINNN!” was coming from Tony, and Clint and Nat had stopped arguing and were laughing at Tony. I snorted at the weirdness of it all, taking my seat next to Wanda at the table. She mumbled a ‘hello’ but that was it.  
We didn’t really have ‘family dinners’ a lot, well we did, but nobody actually called them that. These dinners consisted of some sort of take-out, or pizza, shouting, and side conversations with Wanda in Russian. They were usually somewhat fun. Once Tony stopped singing, Steve sat down, followed by Tony. I crossed my legs, which was fairly awkward in the wooden chair I was sitting in.  
“Cheese or pepperoni, Gia?” Bruce asked with a chuckle, handing me a slice of cheese pizza I could have gotten myself.  
“Ha, ha, ha, you’re so funny.” I said rolling my eyes, an action that the rest of them weren’t aware of. I smiled, taking the plate from Bruce, and sitting it in on the table in front of me. I checked to make sure that it was in fact pepperoni-free, and then I took a bite slowly, causing Tony to laugh. “What did you do to it?” I asked, just before I spit out the bite.  
“Nothing,” Tony replied with a smirk that I didn’t have to see to know was there. “You’re just really easy to mess with.” I put the piece of pizza back down with a sigh.  
“You’re the most irritating person on the planet.” I muttered with a small laugh, rubbing my temple with my index finger. He chuckled a it, but other than that he didn’t even seem to hear me.  
“It runs in the family,” he retorted causing me to laugh yet again. All I heard in response was a camera flash and a hushed reprimand from Natasha.  
“Did you just take a picture of me?” I asked, trying really hard not to let my anger seep into my voice. I hated when people took photos of me. I hated it with a passion.  
“Yeah, wanna see?” at this point the three-way conversation between Clint, Natasha and Bruce had stopped, and I could feel them looking at me. I smiled as if to assure them that I was fine, and I would have been, had Tony not added; “See what I did there?”  
I knew he wasn’t trying to be mean, or offensive, he was just being Tony. Tony with his sick, twisted sense of humor and sarcasm, but it pissed me off. Not in a ‘punch a wall’ sort of way, but more along the lines of a madness that made you want to be alone and just talk to your pillow.  
“You know what?” I said, standing up and pushing my chair in. “I’m not really hungry, but thank you for dinner.” and with that I walked swiftly out of the kitchen.

“Bruce, I swear I am not anorexic!” I yelled, trying to get away from the doctor with too many facts on eating disorders. He had the advantage of properly functioning eyeballs.  
“You literally ate one bite of pizza for dinner,” he stated, this had been going on for an hour. “If that doesn’t scream ‘anorexia’ then what does?” he had officially followed me from the living room, to Tony’s lab, and then to my bedroom door.  
“I was mad at Tony, Bruce. That’s all. I mean, I eat like a caveman, you know that!”  
“I don’t know that, Gia! You had one bite of pizza for dinner!” He countered. I was extremely fed up with Bruce at this point, I mean, the last time I checked he wasn’t a psychologist.  
“What would you have me do?” I threw my hand up in the air, and leaned against my bedroom door in seeming defeat.  
“Go back to the kitchen, and eat the rest of your dinner, maybe?”  
"I don’t trust Tony, I was upset, and I lost my appetite. I don’t have an eating disorder. Hell, I haven’t looked in a mirror in six years. ” As those word escaped my mouth I wished I would pull them back in, as opposed to using them to argue with Bruce.  
“I don’t trust that you’re consuming the nutrition you need to survive.” he replied, his voice sounding relatively calm. He then cleared his throat, and (based on the sound his shoes made) was rocking on his feet.  
I opened the door to my room, stepping inside and saying; “I’m not anorexic!” then I closed the door in his face, locking it as I did.  
It was quiet for a solid twenty seconds. “That’s exactly what an anorexic person would say!” I chuckled a bit, even though the whole thing was ridiculously annoying.  
“Hey, J.A.R.V.I.S?” I questioned, aiming my voice towards the ceiling, even though it was unnecessary. “What time is it?”  
“Seven-forty p.m., ma’am.” he replied, I sighed.  
“Is it socially acceptable to go to bed at seven-forty?” I asked, sitting down on the corner of bed.  
“Of course, ma’am.” he hadn’t even finished the sentence when I fell back onto the bed, and burying my head in my pillow. I couldn’t explain my tiredness, I mean I had taken a five-hour nap, how the hell was I still tired? I don’t know what exactly about that day was so tiring, I mean, maybe shopping just took something out of me. Like my soul. Regardless, I was tired, so tired I was willing to go to bed before eight for the first time since I was a toddler. I didn’t even change into somewhat sleep-appropriate clothes before I just quit trying to stay awake. 

I woke as I fell out of my bed, my heart beating faster than should be humanly possible, and my skin covered in goose bumps. I couldn’t normalize my breathing, and I couldn’t stop shaking. My nightmares where normally terrible, but they were always the same, and I had gotten used to the terribleness. This it was just darkness and screaming, and I could still hear it even as I slowly regained consciousness.  
Using my nightstand as support, I managed to stand up and stumble into my bathroom. I turned on the fan in attempt to drown out the screaming. It didn’t work. I shakily stripped out of my clothes, including my harness (which is something I rarely did), and stepped into the bathtub, turning on the water as hot as it would go. I didn’t sit down until the water had filled the tub completely, and it burned my skin when I finally did, but I didn’t mind.  
The problem came in sitting down.  
When I bathed or showered, I took off my ace bandage, and I was normally extremely careful, but I was extremely distracted at that particular moment in time. So distracted, in fact, that I fell, and as I fell I let myself open my eyes.


	3. The One In Westchester

"How could you keep this for us?” Steve questioned. His voice, however upset, was decently calm, which I appreciated.  
“Steve… I…” I trailed off with a slump in my shoulders. I couldn’t find the words to say.  
“I knew,” said Pietro from the corner of my bedroom. I’m pretty sure they were all in my room, which I felt terrible about seeing as though it was five in the morning. “And so did Wanda, and Clint.” Clint sighed, he was standing near the bathroom door, and Tony was cleaning up the ceiling that was in the, now cold, bath water.  
“And you didn’t think that was worth mentioning?!” Tony exclaimed. He had apparently emerged from the bathroom and was standing next to Steve, and I could hear the curiosity in his voice. None of them had actually seen what happens when I open my eyes. All they knew was what Wanda told them after I woke everyone up by killing the ceiling.  
“Gia didn’t want us to, we were simply respecting her privacy.” Wanda argued. They were all talking about me like I wasn’t in the room. I flopped down on my bed, ripping my pillow out from under my head and covering my face with it.  
“Which was reasonable, Tony. Calm down.” Natasha interrupted, at that point I knew they were all there, except for possibly Thor, he would have spoken already.  
“I don’t know what to do now.” Steve muttered, and for a second I felt a tad guilty. He didn’t know me when he adopted me, and he didn’t know me then. He didn’t know what he was getting into, and that was enough to make me feel bad for him. But it was when my mutation burdened others that I really fucking hated myself. They didn’t even know about the wings. Wanda did, but they didn’t. What could I possibly have done to deserve how that felt.  
“I’m really sorry.” I mumbled, which was decently muffled by the pillow.  
“I’m going to call Charles,” said Tony. I wasn’t entirely sure who “Charles” was, or why Tony was going to call him, but it seemed to be something, and that was better than nothing.  
“Charles Xavier?” Bruce questioned, his voice laced with confusion, which was quickly replaced with puppy-like excitement as he added;. “You know Charles Xavier?”  
“Who’s Charles Xavier?” I asked, sitting up as I removed the pillow from my face.  
“He’s a geneticist, I think. I met him at a convention a while ago,” Tony replied. “he runs a school in Westchester… for the gifted.”  
“Mutants?” Wanda spoke up from where she sat next to me. I shuttered at the very thought of it, going to a school for mutants. Meeting the, what principal, of a school for mutants. Anything that had anything to do with other mutants.  
“Yeah, do that,” Steve muttered with a sigh. “Gia, get dressed.” he added, and then they all filed out of my room, and I was alone again. I had no real knowledge of who Charles Xavier really was, and that bothered me on top of the fact that at some point today I would actually have to show my mutation  
to someone. The idea of that terrified me on a level that I can’t explain. Even if “Charles Xavier” gave a damn about me,which he probably wouldn’t, he couldn’t help me, he couldn’t understand. He couldn’t possible understand what I had been through, and not with my mutation but my entire life. And that was was it took to get me to trust.  
I found a short sleeved t-shirt and a light jacket that seemed appropriate based on the forecast J.A.R.V.I.S gave me. It was going to end up being around six thirty a.m when we left, that bit Steve told me, so I dressed to prepare myself for hot and cold temperatures. That was the only factor that played a role in what I wore each day.  
At some point Steve came and got me, and dragged me to the car hurriedly. I didn’t want to go to Westchester, or wherever we were actually going, because I was stubborn and hated people. “From what I heard on the phone he seems like a pretty decent guy,” Steve said as we ducking into one of Tony’s cars. How you he judge a person's personality based off of phone conversation, well you could, but the result was usually inaccurate.  
“You heard half of the phone call, Steve. You don’t know anything about his personality other that the fact that he’s decently polite.” I countered as Tony jumped in the passenger's seat and Steve started the car.  
“You have nothing to worry about, I promise.” I leaned my head against the window with a sigh.  
“Easy for you to say, Capsicle.” I retorted with a smirk, which made Tony snicker. I stopped caring about the conversation after Steve pretended to get upset about the use of his infamous nickname.

“Are we there yet?” I asked, sitting up and then falling forwards onto the back of Steve's seat.  
“We’re almost there, but I swear if you ask me one more time you’re grounded.” I chuckled, smushin my top lip against the seat.  
“And here I was thinking you were the cool one.”  
“I take personal offense to that!” Tony exclaimed.  
“You’re definitely cooler than Steve, Tony.” and then we turned of whatever road we were on, and onto another. This road was slightly bumpier, and we were moving much slower than before. We had most obviously reached wherever it is we were going, and I was not happy about that.  
As we came to a stop I could hear birds chirping and the low sound of talking students. It was a new sound, and very new to me seeing as though I’d been a city-girl my whole life. It was chaotic in a peaceful sort of way, and I didn’t hate it. I did however hate the way that Steve was leading me. He was walking on the left side of me, his right arm slung around my shoulder as he led me to the door of the school. It made me feel incapable, not that he knew that.  
I could feel people staring as we walked, I wasn’t sure if this was because of the ace bandage, or if it was because of Steve and Tony being the ones I was walking with. It was probably a decent mixture of the two, but it was mostly Steve and Tony.  
The next thing I knew we were ringing the doorbell, and I was entirely too close to attempting to run as fast as I could in the opposite direction. I wouldn’t have made it very far, but I definitely could have made it somewhere.  
“Um, can I help you?” some guy asked as the door creaked open. His voice was the perfect mixture of high-pitched and low-pitched, and he sounded friendly enough.  
“I’m Tony Stark, this is my husband Steve, and our daughter Energia.” Tony replied, and I assumed Steve shook the guy's hand. “We’re here to see Charles Xavier,” he added, his voice now tinted with annoyance, which happened when nothing happened for more than three seconds.  
‘Uh, right, of course. Come in.” I let out a shaky breath and followed Steve into the school. “I, I’m Hank McCoy, by the way.” ‘Hank McCoy’ added. They spoke all the way to the office, but I wasn’t really listening, I was just trying to remember the second verse of ‘Highway To Hell.’ I knew all of the words, but I couldn’t seem to bring them to my mind as we walked. It was rather frustrating.  
The last thing that ‘Hank McCoy’ said before he walked away was; “Here you are. If you need anything let me know.” then he walked away and Steve knocked on the door.  
“Come in,” came the voice of who I assumed was Charles Xavier. His voice, not unlike Hank’s, was medium pitched, however he had an English accent that was so perfect I was jealous of it. “You must be the Rogers-Stark’s,” he said as I entered. I faked a small smile. “Please, sit.” It was weird how I found the chair, because Steve didn’t help me and I didn’t feel around for it. It was like I knew exactly where it was by memory, because I was able to just sit in it. Based on the squeaking the other chairs in the room made, I figured Steve and Tony also sat down. “Charles Xavier,” he introduced, I immediately put my hand out for him to shake, knowing that was the polite thing to do.  
“Energia Summers- uh Rogers-Stark. You can call me Gia.” I replied, quite upset with myself for letting ‘Summers” slip.  
“Summers?” Charles questioned. I nodded.  
“That was my name… but it’s not anymore.”  
“Well, would you like to give me a run through of your mutation? Explain it to me from your point of view and then we can go head down to one of the training rooms to see what we're dealing with.” I nodded again, anxiously tapping my foot.  
“Yeah, um… I shoot lasers out of my eyes.” I said quickly, desperate to get it over with. “They’re red, and it hurts really bad. Opening my eyes drains me of all of my energy. I actually started a fire in Hell's Kitchen when I was, like, eight.” I forced myself to stop talking, because if I let it go on any longer it would have turned into ranting and that was never good.  
“It hurts?” he questioned in response, to which I nodded. “Would you mind if I asked someone to meet us in the training room?” he added, he was too polite. It was sickening. I didn’t say anything because I figured this particular question was directed towards Steve and Tony.  
“It’s whatever’s necessary, Professor,” said Steve after a moment. Then Charles was speaking to someone apart from the three of us, on the telephone maybe. He said the name Scott, that was all I was really listening to. I was trying to listen, but I was thinking about so many thing that his phone call wasn’t relevant. After a moment he cleared his throat and said; “If you three would follow me.” and then we were walking.

“And who are you, again?” I asked the mysterious male voice that had greeted us at the training room, or bunker, or whatever.  
“I’m Scott,” he replied, I offered him my hand and he shook it.  
“Gia,” I said in response, my entire body shaking ever so slightly. “Why are you here?”  
“I’m not sure,” he replied with a sigh. “but I have a pretty good idea.” his voice sounded sad, and oddly enough, full of empathy. I awkwardly faked yet another smile.  
“So, are we going to do this or not?” I asked, doing an odd dance without moving my feet. I figured that if I acted like I was okay with opening my eyes again, then they would think I was.  
“Whenever you’re ready,” Charles replied, his voice made him seem like he was standing right next to me. “You’re facing the target, and we’ll all be standing behind you.”  
“So just…?” I made a circling motion with my hands, attempting to seem normal.  
“You can open them, you’ll be fine.” Tony spoke this time, which took me by surprise seeing as though he hadn’t really spoken much since our arrival.  
“Hopefully,” I muttered, too quiet to be heard. So, I removed my ace bandage, and I opened my eyes again.  
At that point I was somewhat used to what the lasers felt like, but it still hurt me enough to make me fall to the ground screaming. Steve was to me in a second, I could hear him talking to me, his arms wrapped around me. I couldn’t tell where the others were, but I could hear one of them yelling at me to close my eyes. So I did, this time much easier then before. Then I collapsed onto Steve, all of my energy completely gone, just as before. “Holy Shit!” Tony muttered from next to me, I couldn’t really move yet, so I was just listening.  
“It shouldn’t hurt her.” Scott stated, his voice held a lot of worry. “There’s something seriously wrong here, Charles.” he added. It was about then I was starting to wonder what he had to do with it.  
"Oh God," Charles muttered, his voice stiff. “Energia is adopted, correct?” he asked, his question most obviously for either Steve or Tony, seeing as though they had no real proof I was even conscious.  
“Yes,” said Steve, his voice not entirely sure, as if the question were hard to answer.  
“And her surname name was Summers?” was his follow up question.  
“What?!” Scott exclaimed as I nodded. “Was that information not worth mentioning?!”  
“Calm down, Scott.” Charles demanded, and Scott sighed in frustration. “Is there any chance that…?” he trailed off, but what he was implying was obvious. He thought that Scott was my birth father. If Scott’s surname was Summers, and his mutation was similar to mine, it wasn’t a hard assumption to jump to.  
“No!” he exclaimed, his voice breaking as if he were a teenager. “She couldn’t be, it’s not possible. I mean, I’ve only ever slept with three girls, and I know for a fact that none of them none of them got pregnant.” I laughed a little, sitting up slowly, only to fall onto Steve.  
“Is it possible that-” Charles began.  
“-It’s possible,” Scott said abruptly, cutting off the professor mid-sentence. “But unlikely. Alex wasn’t like that.” he added.  
“We’ll have Hank run a DNA test.” Charles decided. “It can’t be a coincidence.” he added, and then it got really quiet.  
“W-who’s Alex?” I asked, my voice hoarse and cracking.  
“He’s my brother.” Scott replied quietly. “He died about twelve years ago,” he added before I had a chance to respond. I frowned.  
“I’m sorry.” I muttered, and Scott let out the most bullshit laugh I have ever heard ever.  
“You know, you do have similar eyes.” he replied with another laugh, this one more sincere.  
“You’re a jerk.”

I sat on the floor by the door to Hank’s lab, nervously tapping my fingers on my thigh. I was alone to my thoughts, and quite frankly I was kind of upset that they had left me by myself in the hallway. Hank was running some sort of DNA test, I had to spit in a cup, it was uncomfortable. Steve and Tony were off somewhere, probably having sex in the backseat of the car, and Charles had other things he had to do, other students to meet with, and Scott was in the lab with Hank. That left me alone in the hallway.  
I suppose I could have gone in the lab, but that would have been ridiculously awkward, because as I found out, Hank was ridiculously awkward. He seemed to be decently close friends with Scott, so I figured I’d leave them to their bromance. “Well you look pissed off,” said the low-ish pitched voice of a random guy who had decided to sit down next to me. I’m not going to lie, I hadn’t heard him as he was walking up and he did scare me a little.  
“I am a little pissed off, not that it’s any of your business.” I replied, leaning my head against the wall. He huffed out a laugh that sounded kind of ridiculous.  
“Why?” he asked, holding out the ‘y’ for about five seconds.  
“Who want’s to know?” I asked, turning my head to face his voice. I waited for a reply for about twenty seconds before he said;  
“Oh, right, sorry. I’m Peter.”  
“Well Peter, they think Alex Summers is my biological father.”  
“Alex? As in plasma hula hooping, solitary confinement Alex?” he said with a chuckle. I smiled a bit, nodding my head.  
“Apparently.” I replied. He patted me on my shoulder, using it to push himself up.  
“Well, let me know how that one turns out. See ya around, Summers.” he said, as he began to walk away.  
“Actually, that’s not my-” then there was a “whoosh” noise, and I couldn’t hear him breathing anymore. I chuckled and stood up myself, opening the door to the lab and stepping in unsure of weather I actually wanted to or not. So what exactly does that mean?” I asked, detangling my hair with my hand. “It means, well, that you’re related to Scott in some way. The DNA doesn’t match as it would if you were his daughter, but there is definitely relation.” Hank repeated, this time without a million fancy science words I didn’t know. “There is a good chance, based on this that Alex is in fact your biological father.” I huffed, unsure as to how what I was supposed to do. “Do you know why it hurts her so much?” Steve interrupted, I mustered a nervous laugh, running my right hand through my hair. I could barely hear them through the ringing that had abruptly sounded in my ears. “I have a theory,” Scott spoke up, I turned my head towards his voice, trying to focus on what he was saying;something I was having trouble doing. “I shoot concussive beams from my eyes, they are extremely similar to Gia’s. My eyes act as portals to some other dimension, and the beams travel through and… you get the point. Hank, correct me if I’m wrong, but if her lasers, are well, actually lasers that could be what’s causing the pain and energy loss.” he finished, I huffed again, blowing a strand of hair away from my face. “That actually makes a lot of sense,” Hank responded, thee ringing was starting to fade and I could hear the faint sound of pencil on paper. “Gee, thanks.” Scott muttered with a small chuckle, which made the right side of my mouth twitch upward. It wasn’t a smile, but it was pretty damn close. “You’re welcome.” Hank responded, almost as if he couldn’t detect the sarcasm, I rolled my eyes even though no one could see it, except for maybe Charles who, as it turned out, was telepathic. He had entered the room approximately five minutes earlier, as Hank was reading the results to me-the first time-but he had been quite the whole time. “Thoughts, Professor?” he added quietly. “I think that your theory, Scott, is a good place to start. May I speak with you in my office sirs?” Twenty minutes later I was enrolled at “Xavier’s school for gifted youngsters,” extremely tired and extremely pissed off that I had no say in the decision. “C’mon, Steve. I can’t go to a school for mutants. I will literally die.” I argued as we walked towards the car. I wanted to slam my arm in the car door, which was definitely an odd urge. “But not figuratively?” “Tony could home school me!” I exclaimed after another few seconds of cringing at Tony’s joke. “No,” was Tony’s immediate response, to which Steve laughed. “I don’t understand why you’re so upset.” I sighed. The problem was that I didn’t know how to put the explanation into words. That frustrated me. “Steve…” I whined, banging my head against the back of his seat. “Gia, you’re a child.” he responded, and then we were driving. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I do realize how royally effed up my timeline is. I'm sorry if anyone reading this finds it hard to follow.


	4. The One Where School Starts (ft. Ollie Cain)

“I don’t wanna go, Pietro. Don’t let them take me.” I said flatly, lying on my bed facing the ceiling and listening to the sound of the fan.   
“I agreed to help you pack because you promised not to complain about mutant school.” Pietro countered from somewhere else in the room. “I also agreed to help you pack, not to pack for you.” I rolled off the bed, landing comfortably on the hardwood floor I could have sworn was carpet. Pietro didn’t seem to notice.   
“Who pissed in your cornflakes?” I questioned with a smirk as we bumped shoulders on the way into my closet.   
“I’m just tired, I um… I was up late.”   
“Doing?” I asked, pulling about six shirts off of their hangers. That was the problem with my vision, I couldn’t really see what I was packing, and I usually ended up dressing like an idiot.   
“Stuff.” he responded, and usually I would have pried, but he was helping me pack, so I wasn’t about to accuse him of anything. “Are these two suitcases enough? Because you’re coming back here on the weekends and-”  
“-They’re fine, Pietro. Thank you for your assistance.” I responded, zipping up the suitcase I was supposed to fill and Pietro ended up filling.   
“You just got really formal.” he stated, to which I smiled  
“We leave in fifteen minutes,” I muttered in response. “according to what Tony told J.A.R.V.I.S. to tell me.” he chuckled, before taking the suitcase from me.   
“Lighten up,” he teased from my doorway, based on the volume of his voice. “Maybe you’ll meet someone like me who can run you all over the country.” he chuckled to himself before adding; “That is, if Tony un-grounds you.”   
“How could one wet-willie someone without expecting to be punched?” I asked, grabbing my toiletry bag and following him out the door. “Three weeks! I’ve been grounded for three weeks!”   
“Gia!”  
“Sorry!”   
We soon exited the elevator and made our way into the living room, my three bags distributed between Pietro and myself. Someone laughed upon our arrival, and I assumed it was due to the look on my face. I also assumed it was Tony who laughed in the first place. “I don’t like people, this will not be beneficial in any way!” I exclaimed, flopping down on the sofa with a long melodramatic groan.   
“It won’t be that bad.” Clint retorted, flopping down next to me and wrapping his arm around my shoulder. This was definitely out of character, and made me just a bit suspicious. “It’ll be even better now that you have this,” he tossed something light into my lap, and I realized upon picking it up that it was an ace bandage.   
“You got me an ace bandage?” I questioned with a raised eyebrow, turning to face his voice. He laughed a kind of evil laugh that momentarily made me question his sanity. “Is this some kind of joke?”  
“One-this one is so much cooler than yours. Two-yours is falling apart and kind of smells bad, it was in need of replacing.” I smiled as he said this.   
“Why is it cooler?” I asked with a small chuckled as I removed my ace bandage and tossed it onto the sofa next to me. Clint them wrapped the new one around my head and I could smell the sharpie ink on it as he did so. “What did you write on it?”  
“Nothing bad.” he responded with a small chuckle. I hear him high-five someone as he finished securing the bandage around my eyes. I chuckled as I Tony pulled me off of the sofa.   
“You know sharpie is toxic, right?” I yelled behind me. The last thing I heard before Steve dragged me to the was Clint laughing and Bruce asking Natasha about leftover Chinese food. 

“We could still turn around, it’s not too late.” I exclaimed as Steve pried me from the backseat of the car. I had wedged my hands between the seats and I felt about six years old, but I was putting up a fight. It was obviously no use, what with Steve literally being a super soldier.   
“Gia, you have to go to school, be it here or somewhere else. It’s better to go here where you’re safe from judgment, than somewhere else where you aren’t.”  
“Steve, it’s impossible to escape judgment.” I spat. His grip on my loosened just enough for me to break out of his grasp, and then I ran… right into Tony. “DAMN IT!”   
“Language, Gia!”   
“DAMN YOU!” I screeched, Tony tightened his grip on me.   
“For fucks sake, Gia! It’s not like we’re leading you to your death. Stop getting all soap opera on us!” Tony yelled, his death grip had turned into a hug, and my and my anger had turned into an unnerving panic. “You’re gonna be fine.”   
About then was when Charles decided it was best to come outside, I could hear his breathing as he neared. “Mr. Rogers-Stark it would probably be in your best interest to let go of her. And Energia, it would probably be in your best interest to stay put and not take off running.” I angrily shook myself away from Tony as he let go of me, and instantly (and stupidly) took off running away from their voices.  
I contemplated removing my bandage and opening my eyes as I ran, so at least I could see where I was going. Two things were very clear; one, I would hurt others and myself by doing so, and two, I would get expelled on my first day. I would have been fine with being expelled, had there not been a chance that I would hurt someone. I also contemplated, very briefly, ripping off my harness and taking of, but that (sadly) wouldn’t have ended well either. So I just ran. With everything in me I ran. My goal was to keep going until I hit someone, or something, but I didn’t make it that far before Steve, based on their height and build, caught up to me and restrained me again.   
I jerked around in his hold, my breaths sharp and panicked once more. My heart was beating and all I could feel people staring at me from wherever it was we were. “Calm the hell down.” I was slightly surprised to hear the person who was in fact Steve mutter through clenched teeth. “Energia!” this time his voice was louder, and I stopped jerking and trying to escape from his arms. He had never called me by my real name before, and it freaked me out. Steve then picked me up and carried me back to the sound of Tony and Charles having a quiet conversation. “What the hell happened?” Tony asked, I’m assuming that he threw his hands up in the air, because I was told he did that a lot.   
“She doesn’t like physical contact.” Charles states, and it frustrated me that he knew everything about me. My apologies, Energia. That one telepathic statement made me flinch, jump, and scream all at the same time. Steve dropped me and Charles apologized again, this time out loud. “I say this with as much respect for Energia as possible, but have you considered therapy? It appears that she is… mentally unstable.” he said so so quietly that a normal person wouldn’t have been able to hear him. But I did. Steve sighed, and I stood up. As soon as I did so Steve had his arm around my shoulder. I was only slightly more comfortable with the position than with the last.   
“Is it possible to discuss it later?” Steve asked, I smiled up towards his voice.   
“Of course.” Charles replied. I clenched and un-clenched my fists in attempt to calm myself, unsure as to where the panic came from. “I’ve arranged for one of our… most extroverted students to show you around for this week.”   
“Extroverted?” I questioned.   
“I figured that the two of you would get along, based on your... personalities.” I laughed, unsure of what he meant by that. “Her name is Olivia. I do suggest that you call her Ollie though, she’ll like you better.” I nodded, hopefully in the right direction. I chuckled nervously, and fidgeted in Steve’s overly-cautious hold, which I understood but despised.   
Steve and Tony left after a few forms that needed to be signed had been signed, and that left me awkwardly sitting in Charles’ office. He was attempting to make small-talk, I’m pretty sure he went as far as to ask me what my favorite color was. I’m also pretty sure I just said ‘red’ and pointed to my eyes.   
The door flung open exactly as the bell rang, as if it had been carefully timed and planned and in strided someone whom I presumed to be “Ollie.” I stood up, waving towards the general door area, even though I could have just spoken. Ollie seemed to ignore me.“What do you want, Charlie?” she asked petulantly, without addressing me. “And who is mini Scott here?” Charles sighed heavily.   
“Ollie, I’d like you to meet Energia. Energia this is Ollie, your guide.” I heard Ollie turn towards me. I rocked on the balls of my feet.  
“It’s Gia, actually.” I said awkwardly. I felt her eyes on me like she was trying to drill a hole into my chest and stare into my soul.  
“Your parents named you energy.” It wasn’t a question. I could hear her raise an eyebrow in the way the words rolled off of her tongue. “You are Italian right?”  
“Mostly.” I responded as Charles sighed again. “I’m pretty sure my mother hated me more than her uneven breast implants-”   
“-Energia how about you and Ollie go find your English class. It should be starting about now and I’m sure Dr. McCoy doesn’t want you to be late.”  
“Ha, Dr. McCoy.” I almost snorted, and I heard Charles sigh yet a third time as we left the room. 

“Sooooooo,” Ollie’s voice sounded loud in the relative silence of the hallway. We had walked a little ways from Charles’ door and her curiosity was obvious in her fidgeting and how often her hair kept brushing her shirt and making a swishing noise as she looked at me. “Who are you, mini Scott? Where did you come from?”  
“I’m Gia, I’m from Venice. Next question.” Ollie didn’t pause.  
“What is your mutation?”  
“I shoot lasers out of my eyeballs.” I replied with a smirk.   
“Why did the Avengers bring you here?” I straight up laughed at her question, trying to figure out the best possible way to answer that question.   
“Because Steve Rogers was ready to be a mother and Tony Stark needed someone besides Thor to test his dad jokes on.” Ollie hummed approvingly seeming unfazed by this information.  
“Why don’t you get Hank to make you a pair of Scott glasses?” she asked and the tone of her voice made it clear she appreciated the rapid fire answers to her rapid fire questions. She guessed not a lot of people did that.  
“And why, should Hank make me a pair of sunglasses?”  
“So that you can see my pretty face... duh.” I assumed Ollie flipped her hair dramatically and I suddenly wondered what color it was. It had been a considerable amount of time since I had though about hair color. I liked voices, even before my “vision issues” developed I had liked voice; the emotion and life in people words had fascinated me my whole life. Maybe that was why I was so good at being blind. I laughed.   
“You can’t be funny and attractive. It’s against the rules of human existence. Get with the program.” I responded quietly, running my free hand through my hair.   
“Just watch me,” she responded “Once Hank gets you those glasses.” She stopped walking. I figured that we had reached the classroom. She turned toward me. “You’re cool, Energy.”  
“You were too, until you said that.” She laughed this medium pitched laugh that sounded kind of like Natasha’s. I felt like I had accomplished something huge in getting her to laugh, seeing as though I’d been trying to do so since we met.  
“See you around?” she asked hopefully as she opened the door.  
“Yeah, definitely.” I muttered with a nod.   
“Good.” I smiled the best smile that I could manage, and then I let her drag me into the classroom.   
“DOCTOR McCoooooooy” Ollie said like his name was a joke. There was a scraping of chairs as everyone most likely turned to look at us. From the giggles and whispers around the room I figured this was a common occurrence and the class was ready for a show. “Charlieeeeee told me to bring this girl here her name is GEEEAAAAAAHHH.” She said every word slowly and deliberately. Over pronouncing my name as if she were talking to a two year old.  
“Yes, Ollie. I know, we’ve met.” he responded, his voice just as awkward as it had been before. “Hello.” he added quietly.   
“Hello.” Ollie wasn’t pleased with my response, I could feel it radiating off of her.   
“I just wanted to make sure you REMEMBERED HER.” she said, I like to imagine that she had her eyes open is a crazed sort of way as she did so. “We all know how your memory can be sometimes DOCTOR McCooooy.” the class laughed and I could practically feel the annoyance and embarrassment at the front of the classroom. I leaned over to Ollie.   
“Am I missing something?” I whispered in her ear   
“Oh right, I’ll fill you in later... just watch this.”  
“Um…” I gestured to my face, raising my eyebrows. “I kind of can’t.” I let out a half-hearted laugh of some sort.   
She laughed again, more quietly this time. Why hasn’t she said anything yet? I though after a moment. Was is me? Did I mess up again?   
“Well?” asked Dr. McCoy “Are you going to sit down?” I could feel myself blush.   
“That makes sense.” Ollie was still standing there, probably looking at him like she hadn’t heard him.  
“I’m sorry what was that?” she yelled, her voice obnoxiously loud. I like to imagine that she cupped her hand over her ear. “What, what did you say?” Hank sighed heavily.   
“Ollie do I need to send you out again?” Ollie didn’t say a word and after about a minute Hank added; “There is a seat for you in the back, Energia. Your syllabus is on the desk.”   
“Thanks,” I nodded, unsure of what to do with myself, and made my way to the back of the classroom. With some help from a student with a heavy New York accent I was able to find the desk and sit down. I was pleased to find the syllabus was in braille.   
“I am Dr. McCoy, as many of you already know. Let’s get started.” Hank began. 

Ollie and I were fortunate enough to have the same lunch block, and it fell right between seconds and third period. As we were leaving second period, Ollie informed me that the school didn’t have an actual cafeteria, and that people just found little hideouts where they ate lunch. The so-called populars, or “jackasses” as Ollie called them, liked to eat outside in the courtyard. Scott, as I was informed, was one of those jackasses. “So, he’s your uncle?” she asked and she pushed me through the hallway with her hands on my shoulders. “Like, you are biologically related to Scott Summers?”   
“Apparently he’s my uncle.” I responded lazily, tripping over my shoelaces as she picked up her pace. She laughed a maniacal sounding laugh.   
“Well that explains a lot.” she said, her voice quiet. I may have only known Olivia Cain about three hours, but I had observed a lot about her behavior in those short three hours, and I knew that she was not that quiet. Not even when she was supposed to be.   
“Why is your voice so quiet?” I questioned. She laughed a bit under her breath.   
“I’m jump scaring Kurt.”   
“Who's Kurt?”   
“He’s a blue German lizard person. He’s really easy to scare.” I laughed at her words. “And he's easily confused. Once I told him that ‘fuck you’ was a causal American greeting and I got grounded for a month.” I wanted to laugh, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I just kind of wanted to meet him now.   
“And we’re scaring him for what reason?” I smiled in her direction, wondering if she smiled back at me. I knew that I would never know.   
“Because it’s fun… obviously.” she laughed a bit, and then added; “Now shut up he’s coming.”   
There are a two things that Ollie failed to tell me. Thing one was that she didn’t tell how she was going to scare him or exactly when. Thing two was that Kurt was one of the “jackasses,” and that they apparently traveled in one giant pack.   
So Ollie, who had crowned herself the queen of jump scares, decided to just scream in his face. She did scare him, I know because he screamed… but so did I. The next thing I knew I had tripped over my own foot and was on the ground covering my eyes with my hands. “Ollie!” I exclaimed as I was helped up by someone, whom based on their grip wasn’t Ollie. “Who are you?!” I demanded, jumping away from whomever had picked me up.   
“It’s just me.”   
“Scott?” I raised my eyebrows at the sound of his somewhat familiar voice.  
“Yeah, hi.” he said. “Welcome to Xavier’s.” he added awkwardly after a second.   
“Thanks. It's good to hear you again.” I said with a smirk as I reattached myself to Ollie. She chuckled a bit under her breath as I did so, this laugh wasn’t based on my words, but on my action. I knew that.   
“Scott…?” asked the very confused German I assumed was Kurt.   
“Oh right. Guys, Gia. Gia, guys.”   
“I call you the jackasses.” Ollie said over-enthusiastically, to which I tried not to laugh unsuccessfully.   
“We know, Olivia.” this voice was new, and carried a very pompous and entitled tone.   
“That’s Jean,” Ollie whispered. “She’s the leader of the jackasses. The most jackassy of them all.” I snorted despite my attempt to remain quiet.   
“Hi Jean,” I said with a small smile.   
“Hello,” she replied flatly. Her voice held obvious annoyance, and I was curious if it was just her voice or if we were just being that annoying. I assumed we were just being annoying, because we were being really annoying. “Yes.”   
“What?” I questioned, leaning my head forward in case my ears were failing me. My ears weren't failing me.   
“Nothing.” Jean said just a bit too quickly.   
“Well…” Ollie said holding out “l” for about 4 seconds. “This has been fun and all, but we’ve gotta go do stuff now, so...” I flashed the “jakasses” a thumbs up as she dragged me away from them with extreme determination.   
“Where are we going now?’  
“Why so uptight, mini Scott.” she asked in response. “You’re in capable hands, they shall do you no harm.”   
"Who are you? Shakespeare?”   
“Doth father know you stealith his lab equipment?”  
“He gave me that beaker, for what ever reason, and it was in my closed backpack.” I retorted, my mouth twisting into an over exaggerated frown.   
“If you must know, we’re going to your room. You won’t have another decent chance to unpack, also I like snooping through other people's stuff.” I furrowed my eyebrows.   
“Why not?” I asked in return, holding the words out longer than I needed to.   
“You have Logan next period, I’m betting on homework. Also Parker talks a lot. Also me.” My eyebrows remained furrowed.   
“How do you even-”  
“-Charlie gave me your schedule.” she interrupted. I smiled. “Okay, I stole it. But same difference.” she added impatiently.   
“How do you go about stealing from a telepath?”  
“I had help.” she said rather smugly. “His name is Bob, he’s a squirrel.”   
“Should I even ask?”  
“Definitely not, Hell Girl.”   
We did go back to my room, number 113, but we didn’t do much unpacking. We just kind of talked as I learned my way around the room. And I swear the most disappointing thing ever was when we had to go back to class.   
As Ollie had mentioned earlier, I had a Mr. Logan Howlett for fifth-period History. Ollie didn’t have this class with me, so I walked in figuring the class period would be somewhat normal, or at least as normal as a class could be in a school full of mutants. Never have I been more wrong. ‘HEEEEY!” someone yelled from across the room as I entered. “SUMMERS!” As soon as the word came out of his mouth I remembered his voice; it was Peter from the hallway.   
“That’s not my name,” I replied, which was mostly a lie as it was my official middle name. I sat down at the first empty seat that I could find, there was already a syllabus on the desk. I raised my hand immediately. “I need a new syllabus.” I said, not entirely sure as to who I was addressing.   
“Is there a problem with the one you currently have, Miss…?” a deep gravelly voice responded. That voice was Logan er- Mr. Howlett.   
“Rogers-Stark.” I said with a very small and very forced smile.   
“And the syllabus?”   
“Isn’t in braille.” I returned through clenched teeth, doing everything I could to keep from raising my voice even a tenth of an octave. “I don’t know what it says.” I added.   
“Sorry. I wasn’t aware I had a blind kid in my class.”   
“I’m not blind,” I retorted impatiently, my voice raising despite my efforts.   
“Then what are you, Miss Rogers-Stark?”  
“Well, for one, I'm visually impaired. Also, I’m really fucking happy to be here and not asleep.”   
“That would be detention for you, Miss Rogers-Stark. I don't appreciate cursing in my classroom. ”   
“Thanks, looking forward to it already.” I threw back smugly.   
“For the rest of the week then.” he stated in a way that made me feel like I was trapped in this endless cycle of questions that weren’t actually   
“Great,” I responded without missing a beat in our sarcasm duel.   
“Dr. McCoy’s room. Three thirty to four thirty.” he said with a small sigh that had no real meaning or emotion behind it. “Hello everybody. I’m Mr. Howlett, your history teacher. You knew that. My contact information is on the second page of your syllabus. I don’t particularly enjoy children, but if you don’t interrupt me, or talk, we should get along fine.”   
The most interesting thing about “Mr. Howlett’s” class wasn’t the class itself but the homework assignment that we were, in fact, assigned. I understood the “quirky” and “fun” teachers who “really want to get to you you” assigning a sheet for the students to fill out about themselves. I didn’t, however, understand “Mr. Howlett,” the teacher who acted like he hated people more than I did, giving us an entire packet of stuff for us to answer, let alone in the last five minutes of class. Personally, I rather enjoyed answering some questions about myself, but four pages (front and back) was a bit too many questions to ask me without getting sarcastic some responses.   
What annoyed me the most about Mr. Howlett, was that he didn’t believe in my inability to see, so he had knowledge that I was “blind” and instead of emailing me the assignment and letting my fancy Stark made “blind person laptop” read it to me, he gave me a paper copy and told me to find someone to read it to me. I cursed him out in a very long string of Italian profanities. It was oddly satisfying.   
My room was smaller than the one at the tower, though that wasn’t surprising, and I apparently had a “community bathroom” on one side of me and a bedroom on the other. So far, the room was pretty simple, it had four walls, a bed, and a closet. The idea of the room scared me, but at the same time made me feel a bit better about the idea of this school.   
I was sitting on my bed when the event I came to call “the first argument” started, there were several more of similar nature to follow. I could hear the muffled sound of voices almost directly outside of my door. One of those voices was obviously Charles, but I didn’t recognize the other. That fact didn’t really bother me, seeing as though it was my first day and I only knew four people. I stood up, my curiosity getting the best of me, and I walked to the door. I pressed the side of my face against the wood of the door, the voice becoming clearer as I did so.   
“Peter, Dr.McCoy can’t enhance your spidey sense, and quite frankly I’m not sure why you want him to.” Charles said to “Peter.” He said the words “spidey sense” in a way that made it sound like he but the words in air quotes.   
“McCoy makes a bunch of stuff for a lot of mutants.”   
“Dr. McCoy engineers devices that are necessary for students safety. And technically, you are not a mutant.”   
“I’m a mutant.” he countered, to which I smiled. I liked him already.   
“You have mutated genes, yes, but your “mutation” is not written in your genetic code, therefor you are not technically a mutant.” Charles returned calmly, his confidence unbroken. “Energia, has anyone ever told you that it isn’t polite to eavesdrop?” he added after a few moments. I sighed, opening the door.   
“Hi,” I said with a small breath.   
“Are you aware that you’re supposed to be in detention?” he asked rather smugly. I smiled.   
“I was just on my way, I had to grab my laptop.” I responded quickly, which was useless as I didn’t have my laptop and Charles was telepathic.   
“Detention, Energia.” he said, his voice a bit more serious than it had been. “Peter here will walk you there.” he added. I groaned a loud and over dramatic groan.   
“No offense,” I added after a few seconds. “I’m sure you’re a wonderful person.”   
“I am.” he retorted immediately. I laughed a bit, just because he seemed nice and I genuinely worried that I had somehow offended him.   
“I’m Gia,” I said as we started to walk.   
“Peter Parker,” he replied.   
The most valuable piece of information I collected on the walk to Hank's lab was other Peter's last name, seeing as though he called me by what was once mine. So by the time we had reached the lab I had a plan. Something that I noticed about other Peter was that he got in trouble a lot, and that Logan hated everything. So I knew that other Peter (or Maximoff as I had decided to call him) was in detention. I mean, where else would he be? Peter Parker left me at the door, and I walked in confidently, almost proud of the fact that I got detention. Then I realized that Steve told me I had to call him, and that meant I had a Steve lecture to look forward to. I mean, I could lie but seeing as though Steve is a human lie detector, I doubted it would go well. So, today should be fun.   
“SUMMERS!” other Peter yelled upon my entrance, He was too predictable.   
“MAXIMOFF!” I yelled in return, throwing my hands up in the air.   
“SUMMERS!! HOW DO KNOW MY NAME?!”   
“HOW DO YOU NOT KNOW MINE?!”   
“Energia. Please. Sit. Down” Hank said with a very long as exasperated sigh.   
“So, what exactly do I do in here?” I asked, propping my feet up on the desk like those kids who got detention on the Disney Channel. “Logan didn’t give me quiet time homework.”  
“First off, you’re going to get your feet off of the desk. Second, you’re going to stand up, and follow me. We are experimenting with “Scott glasses” as Ollie called them when she brought it to my attention that you can’t see.” I laughed a bit at the level of awkwardness that was still present in his voice despite the fact that he was in “teacher mode.”   
“Fun…” I muttered, quickly spinning sideways and standing up. “So what are “Scott Glasses” exactly?” I questioned, following Hank to the back, using the desks to do so.   
“Well they’re going to be glasses similar to Scott’s, if I do my job correctly they will enable you to see.” he replied. “Did that really need an explanation?”  
“No, but thanks.” I responded a bit flatly. “So…. where do we start?” 

“Preferred classroom seating?” Ollie asked me, flopping down on my bed as I paced the open floor space carefully.   
“I like being in the back.” I responded after a second or two.   
“Me too.” she said, writing in answers on my worksheet, “This is insane; favorite things to do?” I laughed for a second, and then felt kind of really bad for myself because I didn’t know.   
“Listening to music, talk to Steve while he complains about modern television, and um… talking to Wanda.” I responded, flopping down next to her on the bed after finding my way back to her. “I have no life.” her pencil once again made noise as she wrote.   
“Speaking of which, when do you get your eye usage back?” she asked, poking the bridge of my nose. I didn’t know how it was possible to like someone as much as I liked Ollie without knowing them for more than twenty four hours.   
“Everything we tried today was a bust. I have a meeting after class tomorrow. He’s bringing pain meds and fancy “tri-lensed” glasses.” “Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool, cool, cool, cool.” she said clicking her tongue in between the words. “Last few questions.” I cheered a bit too loud. “Um… Favorite TV show?”   
“I don’t watch TV.” I responded almost immediately.   
“HOW?!” she screamed, her voice echoing in my ear after the word left her mouth. “Not even the science channel?” I laughed a bit at her surprise.   
“It’s boring when you can’t see the screen and you’re struggling to keep up with what they’re saying.” I said with a shrug.   
“American television, yeah. But what about Italian TV?” I shrugged again.   
“Next question, please.”   
“Fine…” she sighed, and based on the movement of the bed she rolled over. “Favorite color.” smiled in return. “I can leave it blank.”   
“I do have a favorite color,” I said, throwing my feet off of the side of my bed and standing up again. “It’s red.” I added as I began pacing. I’m not sure if Ollie understood why, but she went with it, writing down ‘red’ on the page for me.   
“He wants one interesting fact about you or your family, mutations excluded.” I decided right then that this school year was going to be interesting.   
“Do you think a secondary mutation would count?” I asked, unsure of whether or not I actually wanted “Mr. Howlett” to know about my wings.   
“I’m writing it down anyway, so talk little one.” she responded. She was talking in that weird “pet voice” that people use when they talk to their dogs.   
“One, I’m taller than you. I know because I’ve walked around with you all day and I’m getting tall. Two, um… I have wings. On my back. And I have this harness thing that’s kind of like a bra-” I was cut off by Ollie.   
“REALLY?!” I nodded. “I wanna see!” I furrowed my eyebrows with a smirk, creating a ridiculous face that I would never truly live down. “Not the bra, your wings!” she clarified with a nervous laugh of some sort.   
“Not right-” I was once again cut off, not by Ollie but by my phone ringing. “That would be Steve. Pick it up for me?” I asked, flopping down on my bed once again.   
“It’s a video call.” she informed me, putting the phone in my hand. “You’re facing the camera…. And go!”   
“Hey, Steve.” I said with a smile, waving a bit to the camera... I hope.   
“Hello Gia,” he responded flatly. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to talk about. “How was your day?” he asked.   
“It was good, nothing really happened, overall uneventful”   
“You liking school?” I laughed a bit at his question, as I had been anticipating it.  
“Yeah, it’s fine I guess. There’s people, there’s me. There’s Logan. It’s cool.” he laughed.   
“And who is that behind you?” I hung my head as I heard Ollie laugh. The laugh was very quiet, but not so quiet that I couldn’t hear the mischief in it.   
“Oh, um… that’s Ollie. She’s decided that we have to be together at all times, and that my pride is now hers her eliminate.” he laughed, and it was seemingly unforced.   
“Hi Ollie,” he said, and I’m sure he waved because that was a Steve thing. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ollie.”  
“We scared a small, blue German lizard person during lunch today.” I said, once again smiling. “His name is Kurt, and he doesn’t believe in w’s.”   
“That’s a bit rude, Gia.” I smiled, stiffing a small, closed-mouth laugh.   
“Sorry…”   
“Are you feeling better?” he asked, “I know you were a bit… nervous this morning.” he added. I rolled my eyes.   
“I’m fine, Steven.” I responded, trying to remain smiling, as if to keep up the charade. “How’s stuff at the tower?” I asked, wiggling my eyebrows around a bit.   
I wasn’t about to admit that I had become comfortable in the tower, in fact I had started to feel safe there. I had come to terms to the fact that I was going to spend the rest of my juvenile life with Steve and Tony in the Avengers tower, and yeah that terrified me. I wasn’t one to settle, I just didn’t do it, but it was and I was okay. I could picture myself coming home from college at Christmas and over the Summer, and the only reason it scared me was because I had only known them for five weeks. In that time I had developed relationships with every single person who lived there, and that was both amazing and scary to me, for reasons I can’t explain.   
“Tony is bored, Wanda is bored, I’m pretty sure they started pranking each other.” he paused as I laughed a short laugh that apparently made him chuckle a bit. “Basically… all hell broke loose here, apart from Clint being in a generally good mood.”   
“It’s because I’m gone.”  
“No, it’s not you, it’s-” he was interrupted by Clint telling me that he was, in fact, happy because I was gone. “Okay, well I miss you.” I laughed again.   
“Thanks, Steve.” I awkwardly stopped talking and waited for him to say something.   
“So… are you staying out of trouble?” he asked after about twenty seconds, which was good considering how long I was expecting it to take for him to figure out I wasn’t going to say anything.   
“Yeah, of course.” I responded, a sarcastic tone a bit too present in my voice.   
“Gia…” he saw right through me, as I had anticipated.   
“I got detention…” I sighed, a deep sigh. “For cussing in class…” and then it was Steve’s turn to sigh. I could hear him face-palming in the way that he sighed, and for the first time in a long time I was disappointed in myself.   
“What’s the teacher like? The one who gave you detention.”   
“He’s um... he's kind of a jerk.”   
“Then try and stay under the radar in his class.” I nodded, returning a small smile to my face. “I have to go, Tony and I have a date.” my smile widened. Despite the two of them being so different, and constantly bickering, they were the cutest fucking couple on the planet.   
“I have a bit of homework to finish anyhow.”  
“Okay, well… bye!” and then he hung up. It was a very anticlimactic ending, and I was okay with that, considering that I didn’t have to sit through a Steve lecture after all.   
“He seemed nice…” Ollie said, removing the phone from my hands and hopefully put it back on the charger. “And annoying at the same time. Is that possible?”  
“Yes, it is very possible.” I responded, sighing as she pulled me back onto the bed. “Steve has the general annoyingly nice personality.” she laughed.   
We finished the assignment at about seven-thirty, talking between questions, and asking some of our own. She didn’t, however, leave my room until a quarter after eight, when Charles came to get her for whatever reason, and so I was left by myself without anything mildly interesting to do. At eight thirty I got bored and called Wanda, which was something I could do with easily with my fancy “blind person phone” as Tony had called it. The extent of his line of “blind person technology” was my phone and laptop, as Steve had told him that if he kept saying “blind person” he would offend me. That was the end of it, mostly because Steve said that it was.   
Steve had a way with people, and I couldn’t really describe it. All I knew was that he had so much of so many different emotions swirling around inside of him, and he could just melt people. He was one of those people that earned your trust almost immediately, who made you feel safe. I think that part of it had something to do with how outwardly emotional he was. A virtue that Tony seemingly lacked, though I was perfectly okay with Tony being Tony. Though my time at the tower was now limited, I still felt like I was there. The bed didn’t feel any different, and if I tried hard enough I could ignore the low buzz of students snoring l and the music that Peter was listening to on his iPod with the volume all the way up.   
If his bed was on the other side of the room this wouldn’t have been an issue, unfortunately our beds were on opposite sides of the same wall. He was into musicals, and I applauded his choices, just not when it was eleven o’clock at night and I couldn’t sleep because Hamilton was blaring through his headphones. I had sensitive ears.   
Eventually I got out of bed, stumbled into the hall, leaning onto his door as I knocked on it. He paused “Cabinet Battle #2” to open the door, and I fell into his room as he did so. He helped me up and I crossed my arms after I stopped wobbling. “Gia…?”  
“What the hell dude?” I asked, slumping over on the door frame.   
“Wha-”  
“I don’t know about you Parker, but I have very sensitive ears and I like sleep. Now there are two things I want to bring to your attention, music I can sleep to, and music that keeps me awake.” he sighed as the words left my mouth. “Bach, OneRepublic, hell even Taylor Swift puts me to sleep, but Hamilton? Hamilton is one of those “listen to it on a speaker and dance” playlists, and it keeps me awake. Quite frankly I don’t give a shit as to what type of music helps you sleep, but if you’re going to play it with your volume all the way up then we have a problem.” I finished with an eyebrow raise, and gave my sleepy brain a high five for not stuttering.   
“I… I didn’t know you could hear it. S-sorry-” he was cut off by a yawn, and I smiled.   
“I’m tired, I’m sorry, turn your music down, and goodnight.” I pulled his door closed behind me and stumbled back into my bedroom, locking the door behind me and flopping back down on the bed, pleasantly surprised with my first day.


	5. The One With Settling In

I was halfway through typing my name on an assignment when Hank called me to his lab. I was in detention again, but some other teacher was babysitting us now. I will forever be thankful that he called the classroom directly and didn’t come to get me, because “hall roaming” with Hank was awkward. Whoever was “detention monitor” reluctantly let me go, and I stumbled to Hank's lab, having a bit of trouble as it was only my third day at school. I liked having Ollie around for two reasons, one; I was comfortable around her, two; she could see. Yes, she ran me into stuff and laughed about it, but it was still nice to have someone there, especially if that someone was Ollie. I liked Ollie.   
I made it alright, only running into one wall, and I eventually stumbled into Hank's lab.Well, I really just busted through the door and hoped that I was in the right place. “I’m here! I’m here!”   
“Energia, what on Earth?” I laughed at his ‘exclamation’ and crossed the room to where his voice was coming from.  
“Sorry, I had trouble getting here. For a minute I thought this was Charles’ office, and I wanted to make an entrance.” I responded, to which he laughed a bit and patted me on the shoulder. At that point in time I became very aware that Hank was going to be awkward, and I was going to be okay with that because there was nothing that anyone could do about it.   
“Well, I think I’ve got the situation figured out. Um… today I just need you to try stuff on, left me know which pain meds work. If all goes according to plan, you should leave here today with your sight back.” I fist-pumped a few time in attempt to seem excited, though it was probably weirder than it was anything else. I was throwing a little mini Gia party, as I called them. I wasn’t overly enthusiastic about the return of my vision, in fact I didn’t really care either way, but some part of me (deep inside my dark and bitter soul) wanted Hank to feel happy about the fact that he was helping me. He laughed a bit.  
“Do I get sunglasses?” I asked, my voice resembling that of a five year old asking for candy.   
“I have a pair of regular glasses, and I have a pair of sunglasses, It really depends on how your eyes adjust to light.” he responded, messing with something on his desk before handing me a bag that I’m assuming contained glasses and bottles of pain medication. “Don’t mess with any of that in here, you’ll probably blow something up.” I contemplated just ignoring him, but decided that he needed his lab, and that I wasn’t going to be an asshole and blow something up.   
“Yes sir, Mr. Hank Man, sir!” I said, my voice at normal volume and I gave him a slight nod of my head. He sighed.  
“Dr. McCoy.” he corrected.   
“Yeah, that’s not happening.”  
“Yeah, okay.” he responded, putting him hand on my shoulder as he began to lead me out of the lab. “But you might want to talk to someone about possible authority and/or disciplinary problems.” he added, his voice held a sarcastic tone that I wasn’t expecting.   
“Well that was polite.” I retorted, slumping my shoulders a bit as I did so.   
“I-I was joking. I apologize if I offended you in any way.” he said, his voice returning to it’s normal tone and pitch.   
“Yeah, I know.”  
We walked the rest of the way to the danger room in an awkward silence, but he didn’t run me into any walls so I wasn’t complaining. He took the bag from my hand. “The pain medicatio should be effective immediately, and they should work. I just want to make sure. So you take one of these,” he put a bottle in my hand. “and put on the glasses, and then just open your eyes. I have a pair of sunglasses just in case your body reacts poorly to the sunlight.” Then he handed me a pair of glasses.   
“What about these are different from Scott’s?” I asked, opening the bottle and removing a pill from it. “Because Scott’s didn’t work.”   
“Well, they’re still ruby-quartz, but I’ve changed them a bit so that they work better for your particular condition, they're stronger.” I nodded.   
“Let’s go.” I said, my breath suddenly becoming shaky. I wasn’t used to opening my eyes as much as I had been, and it was starting to haunt my dreams again.  
“I’ll be right here if anything happens.” So then I just did it to get it over with. I popped the pill into my mouth, swallowed it and put the glassed on. Opening my eyes slowly.   
Much to my surprise, my "eye lasers" didn’t bust through the lenses of the glasses, however, I hadn’t opened my eyes for real in six years, and as Hank had anticipated, my eyes were sensitive. I didn’t scream, because the pain I felt then was nothing compared to the pain I felt when I opened them without the glasses. I did, however bite my lip as it was more than a discomfort. “So…?” Hank asked expectantly, I nodded, closing my eyes again.   
“It’s… bright…” I said still in some sort of shock. I pried them open again, turning to look at him, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t keep them open long enough.   
“Sunglasses?” he asked.   
“Sunglasses.” I confirmed, closing my eyes and removing the pair I was wearing from my head. He chuckled softly, as I handed them to him. “I think the pain meds work though, in fact, they’re a work of fucking genius.”   
“Language, Energia.” he responded, his voice making him sound extremely tired.   
“Okay Steve.” I threw back at him as he handed me the sunglasses, and I smiled. I was going to leave that room with my vision back. This was it.   
“I’m not even going to… okay. Just try ‘em on.” I nodded, my heart kind of sort of beating out of my chest. Then I turned away from him, just to be safe, put the sunglasses on, and opened my eyes.   
I was facing at a metal wall, it carried scorch marks, though I’m not sure if I was the one that put them there or not. I turned around, my eyes wide, and through the pinkish tint of the so called “Scott like” glasses, I saw Hank for the first time.   
He was tall. Taller than I imagined him anyway. His hair was a mousy brown of some sort and he wore thick, eighties style glasses. He also wore a blue suit and loafers, hidden slightly under a white lab coat, which I personally thought was a bit cliche. I was glad I could still distinguish color, even slightly, through the tint. He was slightly younger looking than I had expected him to be, and he was smiling this weird lopsided smile as me.   
I waved at him, unsure of what I was supposed to do. “Well I can see you, you aren’t dead, and I’m not in excruciating pain. That’s a good sign.” I smiled at him, to which he replied with a laugh.   
“Yes, that is a very good sign.” he said, giving me a brief nod. “And you aren’t in pain?” came his follow-up question two or three sentences later.   
“It’s just a bit uncomfortable, like my head feels really heavy. But no, not really. I’m fine.” I responded with a smile. “I’m great.”   
“I’m glad…” he smiled again briefly. “The pain medication should last about twenty-five hours, and if they don’t just let me know. I’m going to suggest that you take one in the morning either right before you open you eyes, or right after.”   
“Cool, cool.”   
“I can have a refill ready in a day or so, so let me know when you get low.” he then handed me the glasses. “And keep these for nighttime, and dark places, etcetera.” I nodded.   
“Is that it?”  
“Um.. yeah. Just don’t take them off when you’re asleep.” I gave him a thumbs up, and slowly started to back my way out of the room,   
“So, I can go?”  
“Back to detention?” he nodded “Yes.” 

“Hey Summer's!” Other Peter exclaimed as I was walking down the hall, attempting to put as much distance between myself and the detention room. We had talked a lot during, and sometimes after, our many detentions together in the past few days. He was fun to be around, and he didn’t seem to hate me. So I considered him to be a friend.   
“Hey Peter.” I said, picking up my pace to keep up with him as he was speed-walking down the hall like a maniac.   
He was different then I had pictured him, but then again pretty much everyone did. He was an interesting looking character, he was clad in an old band t-shirt of some sort and a pair of black jeans. He wore a silver leather jacket that looked… loved, to say the least. His hair was a similar color to the jacket, and I was having a hard time trying to figure out whether or not it was natural. He wore what appeared to be a pair of goggles on his head that I’m sure had something to do with his mutation. He was fidgety and energetic It was unnerving, but you couldn’t not like Other Peter.   
“Ya wanna do something? I’m bored and I can break you outta here.” I laughed, looking over at him, still in awe of the fact that I could do that.   
“Riiiiiiiight…” I muttered as I remembered that he could have us out of here before Charles had a chance to stop us. He had “super-speed” and we weren’t allowed off campus without expressed permission on weekdays. I wanted to introduce him to Pietro, considering that they were basically the same person.   
“I mean, you can use your eyeballs again, there has to something you wanna see.” he turned around, and raised his eyebrows. I laughed.   
“We’ll get in trouble.”   
“Charlie is swamped right now. He won’t notice. And if he does you can tell him I kidnapped you.” I laughed again. “C’mon, Summers. You don’t have anything to lose, and I’m fantastic company.”   
I sighed a very deep and tired sigh before saying; “Fine, fine.” he did an interesting victory dance. “Can we stop in my room on the way out so I can grab my jacket?”   
“Yeah, one second.” and in a blur of silver he was gone. Literally a second later he was standing back in front of me, my “leather” jacket in his hand. I didn’t even question how he knew where my room was. I was just in awe of the jacket. It was weird, seeing it. I had imagined it differently, and I think it was the most beautiful jacket ever.   
“Holy shit.” I breathed under my breath, though I don’t think Other Peter heard me.   
“So, where are we goin’?” he asked and he grabbed my arm and began to drag me through the hallways. Everything in the building looked old. Not in the dirty, musty kind of way, but the way that made it seem homely. Despite the fact that the mansion was bigger than my future, it felt small somehow, seeing it.   
“Well… where can you take me, Zippy the Squirrel?” I asked. He chuckled for a second and then he flipped me off. I smiled again. I swear I hadn’t smiled as many times in my life as I did that day.   
“Anywhere in North or South America, really. I can run across water, but it would take a while and I don’t wanna freak ya out.” I nodded.   
“This is probably stupid idea, but um… surprise me. I don’t know where to go” he nodded, his eyebrows raised again as if he had an idea.   
Then, without a word of warning, he just picked me up. I squealed and he laughed, it felt very “move scene.” He then put his hand on the side of my head and just held it to his shoulder, and I was very uncomfortable.   
“What the fuck are you doing, Maximoff?”   
“You have two options; one, you’re a bit uncomfortable as I run, or two you end up severe whiplash. Your choice.” I opened my mouth quickly closing it. I repeated this action a few times, trying to think of something to say, before Other Peter said; “You look like a goldfish.”   
“No whiplash. Whiplash is bad.” I finally muttered, to which he responded with a laugh of some sort, though he was looking straight ahead.   
“Brace yourself, Summers.” And with that he was running.  
Running with Other Peter was different from running with Pietro for two reasons. One, when I ran with Pietro I wasn’t being carried bridal style with my head pinned against his shoulder. Two, because this time, I could see. The whole vision thing was still kinda new to me, and I actually was really stoked that I could see, no matter how much I acted like it didn’t matter. And I wasn’t scared of watching the blurred trees and building, it was just new, and exciting.   
In less than what felt like ten minutes we were standing in front of a wall, the presence of people painfully obvious to me as I could hear the not so low buzz of people talking, among other noises. “Uh, Peter?” I looked over at him as he sat me down. “Where are we?” I asked, again he responded only with a laugh. I realized as he zipped away somewhere again that I was sweating, so I shrugged out of my jacket, and was tying it around my waist as he got back.   
“We are at the most “magical place” on Earth.” he finally answered, putting “magical place” in are quotes. I raised my eyebrow again, and he revealed to me two bands, one was red and the other was grey. They each held outlines of Mickey Mouse.“It took me a while to find active ones that wouldn’t be missed, so sorry for the inconvenience.”   
“Are we at Disney?”   
“Yes.”  
“We’re at Disney?!”   
“Mmmhhhmm…”   
“WHAT?!” I basically screamed, my heart pounding out of my chest.   
“There's that Italian enthusiasm.” He responded with a smirk.   
“Oh my God.” I all but fell over as I flailed my arms around like a mental patient. “We just made a thousand mile trip in ten minutes!”   
“Yes.”   
“Oh my GOD!” I looked around frantically. I was expecting like, Lady Liberty or the Empire State building or something. Not fucking Disney World. “I’m kinda freaking out holy shit…”   
“I know, I know.” he gave me a false sympathetic look and placed his hand on my shoulder. “Are you gonna cry, because imma need fair warning.” I shook my head.   
“I not going to cry, asshat.” I responded. “But I wanna pretzel. Do you wanna pretzel? Let’s get pretzels.” I added after about twenty seconds.   
“With mustard.” 

“It’s because you’re a vegan.” he gloated as I was doubled over a trashcan.   
“I’m not a vegan, I’m a vegetarian, and no, it’s not.” I lifted my head after a few minutes, and glared at him. The expression “If I could shoot lasers out of my eyes” was a bit too accurate. “I puked because you pumped me full of Disney junk food and then stuck me on roller coaster after roller coaster.” he raised his eyebrows again, this time obviously questioning my logic.   
It had been about half an hour since I had originally suggested a pretzel, Other Peter (who was down for junk food anytime) turned a pretzel into two pretzels, cotton candy, and so on and so forth. Then he started fanboying over roller coasters, and there we were half an hour later.   
“Yeah, okay, sorry.” he nodded, his silvery hair falling into his face. He looked like a dork, not in the bad way, but not necessarily in the good way either. “Do ya wanna go get Italian ice in Italy?” I gave his a inquiring look.   
“I thought you said you didn’t want to freak me out with the ocean?” I muttered, to which he laughed so hard he snorted.   
“The Italy in Epcot…”   
“Oh…” I nodded, only slightly embarrassed that I didn’t know about Italy in Epcot. “Yeah, sure. Fake Italy! Can we um… walk?” I asked, unsure of how my now uneasy stomach would react to Other Peter’s mutation. “And no more junk food.”   
We got back to the school at about eight o’clock, we were both tired and I had a backpack full of stolen Disney merchandise. I had had probably the best day of my life, what with my vision back and going to Disney. I thanked Peter about a million times, to which he replied, “You’re welcome, Summers.” every time. He didn’t seem to care that I had changed my name.   
Fake Italy was pretty accurate, based on what I remembered. I met this guy named Marco (I mentally named him Marco Polo) who was also from Venice and we made small talk in Italian, which was cool. The only thing that could have possible made it better was Ollie, who I was starting to feel bad about abandoning.   
I walked into my room, collapsing on the bed with a sigh. My legs weren’t working properly, and I felt a brief pang of sympathy for Peter. I remained on my stomach, my face in my pillow until my phone dinged again, signaling some sort of activity. I rolled over and lazily snatched it up from my where it was charging on the ground. I clicked it on, revealed that the screen actually worked, though I suppose it had to. What greeted me on my lock screen was extremely alarming.   
Missed Calls (310): Ollie (229), Steve (76), Tony (2)  
Text Messages (83): Ollie (56), Steve (25), Tony (2)  
Voicemail's (14): Ollie (11), Steve (3)  
My thoughts when I saw the mess that was my inbox were circulating around the world “shit,” and my mind turned to mush. I unlocked my phone swiftly, and fumbled to click the call button. It rang for half a second before Steve picked up. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice held a tone of worry that hadn’t yet turned to panic. “It’s Gia,” he said to someone (probably Tony), but it was clear that he wasn’t talking to me.  
“Yeah, Steve. I’m fine. Did Ollie call you?” I responded, sitting up on the bed and pulling my pillow onto my lap, putting my head on it.   
“Yes, she was frantic because she couldn’t find you and you weren't answering your phone.” he said, his voice holding annoyance. “The whole point of having a phone is answering it.” I sighed, unsure of how to respond correctly.   
“I’m sorry.” I said. He sighed a very deep and exasperated sigh.   
“Where were you?” he asked.   
“Um… it’s a bit complicated.” I was holding my breath at this point, my voice raised to an unnaturally high pitched volume.   
“Energia Rogers-Stark.”   
“Disney. I was at Disney.” I responded, too nervous about the fact that he used my full name to say anything else. He hadn’t had to do that before.   
“As in Disney World? In Florida?” he raised his voice when he said this, not in anger but in surprise. I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me.   
“Yep.” I muttered. “I have cool, and fast friends. Try and pass that back to Pietro” I added, in hopes that we could just drop the “Disney” thing. He laughed.   
“So you don’t hate it there?” SUCCESS!   
“It’s not as bad as originally anticipated.” I said, my voice lacking emotion. “I made a few friends, they’re all about as crazy as I am.” he laughed a very short and semi-forced laugh.   
“I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.” he returned.   
“It’s a good thing, trust me.” I put my pillow back where it belonged and standing up. I moved my Disney bag back to a chair that I lugged in the day before, and threw my jacket over the back.   
“Well, Gia. I have to go, so um… call me tomorrow alright?” he sighed, and based on what I knew about Steve he was probably staring at his watch.   
“Yeah, okay.” I replied. “I should probably call Ollie.” he sighed once more.   
“Definitely do that.” he said. “Night, Gia.”   
“Goodnight Steven.” I responded before hanging up.I immediately clicked on Ollie’s contact, and called her. Her profile picture had been set to an obnoxious close-up of what appeared to be a nose.   
I looked around my room as the phone rang. I assumed it was on silent mode, as it rang way longer than I assumed it was going to. It was basically what I had imagined it to be; a bed, a nightstand, and a chair. We were allowed to add anything we wanted (within school rules), but I had yet to do that.   
She answered on the last ring. “You son of a bitch!”   
“Hey Ollie.” I replied, wincing at her scream  
“I was scared half to fucking death!” she continued, ignoring my greeting “WHERE THE FUCK DID YOU GO!?!?!” I winced again and held the phone away from my ear. I was surprised I could only hear her through the phone and not from all the way down the hall as well. I didn’t really know how to respond.   
“Uh…. Running?” I responded, sounding too unsure of it myself for anyone to believe.   
“ENERGIA- yes it’s her!” she wasn’t talking to me anymore, “Who else would it be? No… why would Charles call me? Why would I yell at Charles?” she ended that sentence with sigh.   
“Ollie?”   
“What?” she snapped irritably.   
“I’m sorry.” I said, my voice shaking. “I was at Disney with Maximoff.” I added after a second.   
“Disney.”  
“Yes”  
“SHE WAS AT DISNEY!” she yelled at whoever was with her on the other end. They responded something that I couldn’t understand through the phone. “Where was you phone while you were off galumphing around Disney World with Peter Maximoff?”   
“Um I left it on my bedside table?” I said, wincing at my own pathetic tone “I’m sorry.” Ollie relayed this information to whoever she was with. “Well, hey I’ll just stop by your room and-” I started but Ollie interrupted me.  
“No don’t! I’m not actually there and you don’t know where it is anyway, so yeah.” she said quickly. I huffed out a confused laugh.  
“Then where are you?” I asked, my voice breaking a bit on the word ‘you.’   
“Umm…” she hesitated “Should I tell her?” she asked whoever she was with “Yes...no...why in the world- ugh fine.” she returned to speaking to me “I am in the woods, somewhere between New York and Connecticut.” If I had been drinking something I would have spit it out.   
“Why?” I exclaimed, darting out of my room as quickly as I could.   
“We were looking for you. We thought you ran away.” she replied simply, as if we were making smalltalk. I sighed, running down the corridor, and attempting to find my way back to the front door.   
“Who is we? Who are you with?”   
“David Bowie, I’m with David Bowie.” I laughed for a few seconds, until I realized that I still didn’t know who she was with.  
“Olivia.” this voice didn’t belong to Ollie, but a man with a slight accent that I couldn’t place. It was Ollie’s turn to laugh.   
“Hey you got it right!” she exclaimed.   
“Ollie?” I asked after a few seconds of radio silence.   
“Yeah?” she responded rather quickly.   
“Who are you with?” I repeated. I was outside now, b-lining towards the woods.   
“I already told you, I’m with David Bow-”- then she was cut off and the phone made that “someone’s stealing the phone” noise.   
“Hello. Olivia is with me,”   
“And who are you?”   
“I’m Erik, uh, her father.” I was a bit taken aback. “And I would like to add that we are lost in the woods.” In a slight panic, I did the only thing I could think to do, I said “On my way!” and I hung up on him.   
I shoved my phone into my front pocket, and I pulled my shirt up in the back, securing it about my shoulders, but leaving most of my front covered. I sighed as I reached back and unhooked my harness- there was no possible way that I would find them from the ground.   
My wings popped back into place like a spring, and it felt weird to expand them. They were smaller than people would expect, although they were big enough to get me off the ground. They were a blackish blue color, and they were scaly. When I was younger, maybe nine, I used to think that my dad was a dragon because it was the only thing my mind could come up with to justify the wings and the eyes together. Of course when I grasped basic human biology that whole idea died, but still.  
I was in the air in less than thirty seconds, it was kind of embarrassing (to say the least), and to be honest I wasn’t sure why I was looking for them in the first place. They’re the ones who freaked out and ran into the woods like madmen, but I’m the one who ran off to Disney without telling anyone.   
By the time I found them, they had wandered into a clearing approximately a mile from the school. It made me want to face-palm. If they had just turned around and walked in a straight line they would have made it back without any issues. From above, all I could see was a light brown dot, and a bright red dot. I was unsure of which was Ollie and which was Erik. And the only way that I could really find out was to land, although there was no way to do that casually. I didn’t know how to just fly down there like; “HEY! I HAVE LASER VISION AND WINGS! SUP?” It would end badly. But I did it anyway. Because else was I going to do. I couldn’t harness my wings without a mirror, so landing in the woods and walking out was out of the picture. So I guess I just had to walk out there and do the whole; “HEY! I HAVE LASER VISION AND WINGS! SUP?” thing.   
I was greeted first by a tall-ish man who I presumed to be Erik, he had greenish grey eyes, though the exact color was unknown to me, and I realized that he was the light brown dot, as the color I had seen (be it accurate or not) was the color of his hair. He looked relieved, but he looked like he had seen a ghost. “You’re Energia?” he asked, he seemed taken aback. I nodded.   
“Yes…”   
“You’re Alex’s kid?” he furrowed his eyebrows.   
“Biologically, yes.” I responded. I felt kind of bad that I added the word ‘biologically’ but I didn’t feel that what I was trying to say was making it across otherwise.   
“You have similar features.” he stated before Ollie pushed past him to me. I was curious as to what those ‘similar features’ were.   
I hadn’t mentally prepared myself for Ollie’s appearance. I had imagined a million different combinations of hair and eye color, a million different facial shapes, a million different skin tones, but nothing could have prepared me for what she actually looked like. I could see her clearly through the din evening light, almost like she was glowing. Her hair was almost the exact same color as the lasers, a vibrant red that didn’t seem natural. Her skin lightly sprinkled with freckles, although most of them were barely noticeable. Her eyes were like polished emeralds, and I was easily lost in them. She was tall, not taller than me, but tall. She was slender in the way that seemed healthy, and as much as I tried I couldn’t stop staring at her. She was beautiful. “Are those the glasses? They work?! Oh my GOD, the wings!” She exclaimed, snapping me out of my haze. I nodded excitedly, smiling at her.   
“Yeah, they work.” She jumped on me, in what I think was a hug. “Also, if the two of you had just turned around and walked that way-” I pointed back towards the school. “-you would have ended up back at the school.” I laughed a bit into her shoulder.   
“Neither of us have a navigational bone in our bodies.” she responded, stepping away from me. “Gia, Erik. Erik, Gia.” she added, pointing between us several times. I nodded at him.   
“Hi.” I muttered, in my best American Accent, the reason unknown to me. It was becoming obvious to be that this man was Magneto.   
“Hello.” he responded, and then we shook hands. “Olivia has told me a lot about you.” he added.   
“Between screams and phone calls?” I asked with a smirk, as we started walking back towards the school. Well, I just started walking and they followed me. He stared at me, as he had matched my pace, but he didn’t speak. “Hey Ollie?”   
“Yeah?” she responded.   
“Can you help me with my harness?” the sentence earned a scowl from Erik.   
We walked the rest of the way in partial silence, although Ollie would occasionally whisper something in my ear, all of which were surprisingly inaudible. We were back by ten-thirty, only half an hour past curfew. When we opened the door Charles was wheeling down the hallway, a look of disappointment on his face. The only way I was able to tell it was him was because of the wheelchair, that and the fact that everyone else was probably in their room. His hair appeared recently groomed, despite it being so “late,” and he sat up stiffly, his apparently blue eyes seemed dull with tiredness. “It’s a half hour past curfew, Erik. Energia and Ollie should be in their rooms.” he said, looking to Erik as if he were the ring leader. “But I’m glad you’re back.” he added more quietly as he got closer.   
“Theygotlost!” I blurted out, the words stringing together.   
“Pardon me, I didn’t hear you.”   
“They got lost.” I repeated. “I found them and dragged them back.” I added after a few seconds. Ollie put on this ridiculous face, and Erik scowled at her.   
“How did they get lost?” he asked, the question obviously directed to me.   
“Because she,” Ollie raised her eyebrows in my direction. “Ran off to Disney with Maximoff, and I thought she ran away.” Erik nodded, as to confirm her story.   
“Yeah okay, that is very true.” I said with a very guilty smile. “But I was back before curfew and they were still in the woods.”   
“You know what?” he asked, raising his right eyebrow. “It’s the first week of school, so I’m going to just pretend that this was a dream.” I smiled.   
“Thanks.” Ollie muttered.   
“Yeah thanks.” I echoed, and then slowly slipped off down the hallway. I could feel their stares as I darted around the corner, and up the stairs to my bedroom. I was nearly there when Ollie called me on my phone.  
“Have you looked in the mirror yet?” she asked as soon as I picked up.   
“Um…. no. Not yet. Why?” I replied. She laughed stiffly.   
“Do that.” she said and then she hung up, and I smiled, shoved my phone in my pocket and walked into my room. I located my regular glasses as soon as I entered the room, and put them on, sitting my sunglasses on my bedside table. With a sigh I took my shoes off and slipped back out of my room. The door was squeaky. The hallway was dimly lit, I was grateful for the eerie darkness. I was trying to be quiet, which was pointless because no one was really asleep yet, and it only really took me three seconds to get to the bathroom from my room.   
I had lived the majority of my life trying to remember what I looked like, trying to figure out if the person that I had remembered was actually me or a person I saw in some sort of children's clothing add. And at some point that image just started to fade, I started to fade. I could see myself in the mirror the second I entered the bathroom, but I still wasn’t convinced that the person I saw was really me. She was unfamiliar, alien. She was just standing there staring at me, and I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I jumped up, and so did she. I was really looking at my reflection, there wasn’t any doubt about that. I was tall looking, and my hair was this odd shade of blonde, it was overgrown and poofy, like really poofy. Despite the light color of my hair, my eyebrows were dark; a characteristic that I found rather peculiar. My eyes, that I could see clearly were a dark brown, and I smiled. My teeth were of decent color, a respectable white-yellow. I had really pointy canines, but that was okay with me.   
I spent so much time figuring out who I was, so that I knew I could like myself. I was more than my appearance when everything was in my head. It was weird to look at myself, because I didn’t feel like more than my appearance anymore, and I didn’t like my appearance. I seemed un-proportional, like my thighs were too big and my nose was too big. Everything felt wrong. But my eyes kept coming back to my hair. It was blonde, which by itself made me feel weird. It was so thick I couldn’t believe that I had managed to get a brush through it all of those years. I seriously looked like I couldn’t afford a haircut, and it bothered me. My hair was so big, and frizzy, and it frustrated me. The color didn’t go right with the size of it, and it bothered me. Why did people let me walk around like this?  
I left the bathroom unsure of myself, and instead of returning to my room, I found myself at Peter’s. I knocked three times, which I followed by a “Peter!” He answered the door when I started to knock again. His hair was darker than I had imagined it being, and it was all over the place, like he had shoved his head under a pillow and left it there. He had this kind of dorky charm, like he took pictures of everything with a really old camera. He was wearing sweatpants and a shirt that I’m pretty sure said something along the lines of “take naps, not drugs.” I wasn’t at all surprised.   
“What do you want Gia…” he asked, his eyes clothed. I smiled at him but he didn’t see it.   
“Do you have a pair of scissors?” I asked, my eyebrows raised. His eyes snapped open immediately, and then they widened. His eyes were like chocolate, but they were clouded with tiredness, so much so that I almost felt bad for waking him up.   
“Hey glasses!” he exclaimed.   
“Yep, glasses.” I responded with a smile. “So… scissors?” I repeated.   
“What the hell are you going to do with a pair of scissors at…” he looked down at his wrist, but he wasn’t wearing a watch, “This late at night.” I chuckled a bit under my breathe.   
“Peter,” I urged, and without another question he disappeared into his room, returning a few seconds later with a pair of kids safety scissors.   
“These are all I got.” he said when he handed them to me.   
“Thanks Peter.” I responded, and then he shut his door in my face with a muffled “goodnight.”   
I didn’t own a compact mirror, and that made cutting my hair by myself a somewhat difficult task. I did it anyways, because not being able to see what I was doing wasn’t about to get in my way. And I chopped most of it off, right to the bottom of my ear. It exploded, got very frizzy and huge, but it worked better frizzy, huge, and short than frizzy, huge, and long. Then I threw away the two feet of hair I chopped off, and I locked myself in my room. I found a pair of pajama pants and and old t-shirt in my closet, and I went to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a bit all over the place, but Gia meets Erik so yay! I guess.


	6. The One With Usable Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I didn't edit this, so there are probably a lot of typos.....

My first Friday at school went smoothly, although Logan gave us a shit ton of homework, and Hank gave us a shit ton of homework, it went smoothly. Scott and I talked for a little while before school, we had similar eyebrows and a lot in common. We both liked eighties bands, which was refreshing as the only person in this entire school, apart from Ollie, who even knew who Journey was. And Journey deserved to be known.  
Steve and Tony were both coming to pick me, and currently I was waiting outside for them to show up so that I could go home for the weekend. I was sitting under a large tree, scribbling in a notebook. Hank gave me a bunch of Italian sentences to translate, as I had never learned written English and I needed to in order to keep up with my classmates. It was simple enough. He went over the letters and the sounds they made during lunch, and he was nice enough to give me the week to work on it. Charles decided that Hank was going to be my English coach, because we had worked together on the glasses and we were acclimated with each other. We had a lunchtime meeting every Friday, blah blah blah blah blah.  
“Hey!” a Scott exclaimed, sitting down next to me with a sigh. I nearly jumped out of my skin.  
“Holy fuck, Scott!” I slapped him on the arm. “Never do that again!” he smirked.  
“I just wanted to formally welcome you to the sunglasses club. It’s us and blind people.” he responded as he jabbed me in the ribs with his pointer finger.  
“Never do that again either.”  
“Noted.” he shrugged. I felt natural around Scott, which was strange. I felt like we got each other, which is probably because we had so much in common. We start talking, and we never stop. He was easy to be around, and I was so thankful for that. “I just wanted to give you my number.”  
“Why?” I asked.  
“Because you’re my niece, and my friend, and I may wanna text you or something.” I laughed at his response.  
“Should I just start calling you Uncle Scott now, or…?” we both burst into laughter before I could finish the joke.  
“I just wanna keep in touch.” he added after a moment, I nodded.  
That meant a lot to me. “Yeah, cool.” he then snatched my phone out of the side pocket of my backpack where it was kind of visible and started messing with it.  
“Hey Gia… who’s varsity jacket and why is he messing with your phone?” the voice belonged to Wanda, and I looked up the second that I heard it.  
Her entire appearance was red, not only because of the tint but because of her clothing choices. She was had her hands in the pockets of a pair of black jeans, but other than that it was red. She had the most badass red leather jacket that I had ever seen, and it was a bit lighter than the maroon tank-top she was wearing. He was smirking, her green-ish/ brown eyes were wide, and when I stood up I had at least five inches on her. She hugged me back when I jumped at her. “Hey! Oh my God! You’re beautiful!” I was squealing like a little girl, and she was chuckling under her breath the entire time.  
“I love your hair,” she exclaimed in response. “But seriously, who’s the punk?” she couldn’t stop smiling, which was probably out of character to some extent.  
“This is Scott. Scott this is Wanda.” they said hi to each other. “He’s my biological uncle. I get the eye laser gene from him.” she laughed.  
“Pietro is in the car. Steve and Tony couldn’t make it, which Steve was really upset about. They got stuck in a Walmart of all places. I didn’t ask.” I nodded in understanding. I closed my notebook and shoved it into my backpack. I snatched my phone back from Scott, and turned to it.  
“See you Monday.” I said, and as we were walking away I yelled; “UNCLE SCOTT!” Wanda laughed even though she didn’t understand the joke.  
“NOT COOL!” he yelled after us, his voice holding obvious humor.  
“He seems… pleasant.” she said, her voice returning to it’s usual tone.  
“He’s nicer than he seems.” I replied, as we neared a car that seemed too nice and un-dented to belong or have anything to do with the twins.  
“Well he seems pretty nice, so that’s good.” she opened my door for me and I ducked into the backseat. 

“We were almost out of toilet paper!” Tony argued over the phone, we were currently stuck on the interstate in rush hour traffic.  
“It could have waited!” I threw back.  
“We’re meeting up for dinner, Gia. Allright. Anywhere you want.” I sighed. I get that it was weird, but I just wanted to see them, because they were my family at this point, and I wanted to actually see them.  
“Tony… Couldn’t one of you of come?” I asked, my voice lacking the anger it once held. The sentence didn’t sound right in my head as it left my mouth.  
“I could have, and I’m sorry. Okay? Where are we meeting for dinner?” I sighed, knowing that Steve was probably regretting not just calling me himself.  
“I don’t care, Tony. Wherever you want to go is fine.”  
“Can you guys get to the Olive Garden on 23rd street?” I laughed at the general idea of Olive Garden.  
“Yeah. See you there.” Then he hug up.  
“Where are we meeting him?” Pietro asked, as he was the one driving.  
“The Olive Garden on 23rd street.” I responded flatly.  
“Figures…” Wanda muttered.  
“Why?” I questioned, leaning forward, resting between the two seats. Pietro looked over at Wanda briefly, his ice blue eyes clouded with amusement.  
“Tony has this… obsession with Olive Garden.” he answered, turning to look back at the road as soon as traffic started moving again.  
“He says it’s his favourite cheap restaurant. Steve found him there watching Netflix in the middle of the night once.” I chuckled for a second or two. “He kept them open three hours after closing.”  
“Really?!”  
“Yes.” Pietro was smirking through the rearview mirror.  
We got there within the hour, which was decent time given that we only moved slower the closer we got to the city. I didn’t know if Steve and Tony were there yet when we got there, but I scanned the parking garage for a car that looked like something Tony would drive. There was one that looked expensive, but not Tony expensive.  
I didn’t know what to look for once we walked in, and I was only sure that they weren’t there yet when Wanda asked for a table for five. The hostess smiled at us, and walked us swiftly to a table in the back corner of the restaurant. “Frank will be your waiter tonight, he’ll be by momentarily for your drink orders.” she said as she places out menu’s on the table, then she gave us the most forced smile ever and walked away. She must love her job. I thought with a huff of amusement.  
Not thirty second later “Frank” approached our table. “Hello, folks. How are ya this evenin’?” his southern roots were obvious is the way he talked. He was tall, and appeared to be in his mid- thirties.  
“Good. How about you?” Wanda returned, his voice holding little emotion as she continued to look down at her menu.  
“I’m fine. What can I get y'all to drink.” the pure stereotype that was his voice was so funny to me. I looked up at him.  
“I’ll have a tea and he’ll have a water.” Wanda answered for herself and Pietro. “Gia?”  
“Do you have lemonade?” I asked, looking between my menu and Frank.  
“Ye ma’am, we do.”  
“One of those, please.” I said with a nod in his direction. “And for my obnoxiously late parents; a shirley temple with a dash of ego, and anything red white and blue.” I said with an over exaggerated smile. Pietro laughed but Wanda didn’t seem amused.  
“Hey now!” a voice exclaimed from behind us. It was Tony. “Respect your elders and shit.” he added throwing himself in the chair next to me. Tony corrected the order and then Frank left.  
I’m not sure if it was the fact that I knew Tony or if it was the goatee, but something about him just looked arrogant. He was kind of skinny, and his dark hair was kind of messy, although I was pretty sure it was intentional. He was wearing a band t-shirt, but I could only tell because there was some sort of explosion that reminded me of the way Metallica sounds. He was smiling, which made me smile, but was also kind of unnerving, like he didn’t do it very often.  
“Are those the glasses?” he asked in sudden awareness. “Can you see me?!” he seemed excited.  
“Yeah, yeah I can.” I responded with a smile. “I imagined you blonde.” he laughed.  
“Smart people aren’t blonde, Energia.” he faked offense. “Except for you. You’re the exception. Also, it looks good, the haircut.” I laughed a little.  
His statement proved to be ironic, as not five minutes later Steve sat down next to Tony. His hair was an alarmingly light shade of blonde, and it was styled to perfection, probably with excessive amounts of hair gel. He wore a button down shirt and a pair of khaki, which seemed fitting. He looked over at me, his eyes appearing to be blue. We made eye contact, although he probably couldn’t tell. He was tall looking and muscular, and it frightened me. Then he opened his mouth.  
“Oh my gosh, you can see me! You can see us! Can you see him? Can you see how adorable my husband is?” it came out in a long string of excitement, a smile present on his lips the entire time. I laughed.  
“No, I’m wearing the sunglasses indoors because I enjoy looking like a douchebag.” I responded with a smirk. He raised his eyebrows a bit at my choice of wording, but he didn’t say anything about it. “Hey Steve.”  
“Hi Gia.” he smiled again, although he didn’t really stop smiling to begin with. “How was school?” he asked.  
“And Disney?” Tony added with a frown.  
“Wait… Disney?” Pietro asked, leaning forward as if he was trying to hear me better. I smiled in sudden remembrance.  
“I met this guy in detention-”  
“-detention?”  
“Anyways, I met this guy in detention, and again before that, but he’s fast, like you’re style of fast.” I pointed at Pietro. “He took me to Disney. Freaked out my friend.” I smiled again. “His name is Peter… Maximoff.”  
“Wait, what?”  
“You’re basically the same person... except you have morals.”  
We continued our discussion until Frank came back with our drinks and took our dinner orders. I got cheese ravioli, because it was reliable. Steve and Tony spent the majority of our Olive Garden dinner thoroughly questioning me about my first week of school. Steve apologized several times for being late, and Tony mainly had brief conversations with me while playing Angry Birds on his phone. He beat the game in the Olive Garden that night, and I mean the whole game.  
I rode home with Steve and Tony in a car that did, in fact, look very expensive, and we arrived back at the tower around eight thirty. The tower looked stood out like a sore thumb standing tall and shiny amongst all of the other shorter and less shiny buildings. The top of the building held a neon ‘A,’ that I was pretty sure stood for ‘Avengers” though I wasn’t sure.  
Bruce was asleep on the couch when we walked in. His curly brown hair was messy and uneven, and one of his arm was hanging limp off of the cushions. He was dressed in a pair of dark brown dress pants and a blue button-down shirt. He looked kind of sciency, but not the way that Hank looked sciency. “Banner!” Tony yelled as he entered the room. I laughed as Bruce sprung up and looked around nervously. His eyes were most-likely a brown color, and they held visible panic.  
“The world isn’t on fire right?” Steve shook his head with a laugh. “Then why was that rude awakening necessary?” he added.  
“Because you fell asleep on the couch,” Tony responded. “Duh…” Bruce rolled his eyes.  
“Yeah, that was pretty stupid wasn’t it?” he stood up and crossed the room, joining the three of us near the doorway. “How was school?” he asked, the question obviously directed towards me.  
“Interesting,” was my simple response. “A good interesting though.” was the long answer.  
“How are the glasses working out?” he asked, scratching the back of his neck with a sigh. It occurred to me then that maybe all scientist were awkward and Tony was just the sarcastic exception.  
“They’re working, so that’s a plus.” I responded with a smile. “Is that a hickey?”  
“WHAT?! NO?!” his hands flew to his neck, although he knew that he didn’t really have a hickey. Bruce was about as sexualy active as a physics textbook.  
“ENERGIA!” Steve corrected, and Tony burst into laughter/ “Oh my gosh…” Steve apparently stopped being mad and started facepalming as when I looked over at him he had his head in his hand.  
“Вам просто нравится создавать проблемы?” (Do you just enjoy causing trouble?) Wanda asked, her voice holding no amusement. I nodded in response, muttering a ‘yes’ under my breath although I don’t think she heard me.  
“Why would you say that?” Steve’s mouth gaped open in surprise, his eyes weren’t wider than normal and I could tell that he was holding back a smile.  
“I dunno…” I smiled. “It seemed like a good idea at the time,” I added with a small chuckle. Bruce was giving me a death stare, although it was proven false when he burst out laughing less than ten seconds later. Tony and Steve followed. “And you guys thought it was funny, so that’s a plus.”  
About five minutes later I found myself waltzing around the empty halls of my floor, trying to figure out what was in all of the other rooms. They all seemed to be in use, although I had no idea what they were used for. The only room that had an obvious theme was a room at the end of the hallway that I was on, and it was most definitely an art studio.  
There were pencil sketches and paintings tacked to the wall with thumbtacks and there were canvases stacked up in piles and paints and markers scattered around a mess desk. I stepped into the room, feeling a bit nosey and the room intrigued me. I stood there in the middle of this art room and I couldn’t help but wonder who used it. Most of the paintings on the walls had to do with war, although in a house like mine, that wasn’t much of an indicator. I highly doubted that Natasha drew them, Tony didn’t seem like the drawing type, and the sketches were too delicate for Thor to have drawn. But, God, did I wish that Thor drew them. I searched the finished drawings for a signature, but I found none, which, quite frankly, was extremely disappointing.  
After finding nothing, I left the room and returned to my own. It was plain, simple, kind of like my room at school, and part of me wanted to just scatter clothes around the floor so it seemed more like an American teenagers room. I smiled, taking off my jacket and slinging it only to floor. Then I flopped down on my bed. 

“Hey, Gia?” Steve asked, leaning onto the door frame and into my room. “Ya have homework?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at me. I nodded towards my notebook.  
“I just have to work on translating these sentences,” I responded. I’d been at it for half an hour, and I was only halfway through them. I think Hank went power crazy.  
“That’s good, I just wanted to say goodnight, I have to be up early tomorrow.” he smiled at me.  
“Okay, night,” I said, forcing myself to smile back.”See you tomorrow,” I added, and he huffed a laugh in response before pushing himself off of the door frame and walking back down the hall. I stood up and walked to my bedroom door. I closed it after looking down the hall a final time to make sure that Steve had already boarded the elevator.  
I returned to my bed and my sentences reluctantly, finding myself missing everyone, even the people who are here; Steve, Ollie, hell, even Peter Parker, who is a beautiful adorable human being, and it sucked. I felt so disconnected from everything, and I didn’t know why. Maybe it had something to do with my newfound sarcasm, or the return of my eyesight, but it was definitely something.  
The farther into the sentences I got, the weirder they got. It was almost like Hank wrote them out late at night and he got really tired about halfway through.  
A volte gli orsi godono di una buona giornata termale.  
=  
Sometimes bears enjoy a good spa day.  
There were three possibilities; one, Hank was punking me, two, Hank wrote these at four in the morning, and three, I was translating wrong. But I was almost certain that I wasn’t translating wrong. I almost wanted to email him about it, but it didn’t seem worth it in the end.  
I finished translating around ten o’clock, but of course I took a number of reasonably long breaks, to mope around my bedroom and throw clothes around everywhere. I was basically the queen of procrastination, so it’s a miracle it got done to begin with. Having nothing else to do, I ended up asleep by eleven, which was a nice change of pace, I guess.  
I woke up around six thirty the next morning. I wouldn’t have been up so early, but I didn’t want to go back to sleep, because every time that I did the nightmares got worse.  
I forced myself to get out of bed after a solid fifteen minutes of just laying there, staring at the ceiling. My meds had yet to worn off, which made finding them a little bit easier. I did have to pull everything out of my backpack to find the bottle which I had haphazardly thrown in the bottom, but that was my own fault. I brought the whole search upon myself.  
After taking my meds, I threw on a pair of jeans and a hoodie before finding my way to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I would never get used to seeing myself in the mirror, a fact that I became aware of the second I saw myself when I walked into the bathroom. I had an epic case of bedhead, which looked like it was going to be a bitch to deal with, and my clothes were kind of tight, but it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. I actually ended up washing my hair in the sink, because it was more oily than an Italian sub from subway, which made it considerably easier to deal with. After about fifteen minutes of blow drying and brushing, I left the bathroom halfway satisfied with what my hair looked like. It was poofy, but it kind of had the Connor Murphy “depressed stoner” type of look to it, and that was cool with me.  
I found Steve in the kitchen, which is where he normally was in the mornings, scrambling eggs, which was also decently common. I sat down at the counter, and pulled my phone off of the charger, which was in the kitchen because Steve had this thing about cellphone usage after nine o’clock, and I let him have that because I was up to three in the morning on that thing during the week.  
“You’re up early,” Steve said as he turned around. He had turned the stove off, and was holding the frying pan.  
“Yeah. my natural alarm clock, or whatever.” I smiled at him as he sat the pan down on the counter in front of me.  
“Well, you’re right on time for eggs.” his voice lacked enthusiasm, and he seemed tired.  
“You okay, Steve?”  
“It’s nothing you need to worry about, kiddo.” I nodded in reply as he exited the room. I didn’t know where he was going, but I wasn’t going to ask him. Instead, I looked back to my phone to find about ten unread texts, most of which were from Ollie. They were all late night ramblings about how Erik was mad because she was keeping Charles awake. I got one at three a.m, in which she said “Eriks about to take my phone, so byyyyeee.” That was my favorite. And there was one from Peter (Parker) about how he wanted to hang out today. I responded to both, Peter asked for my address in return, and Ollie didn’t get back to me.  
I hadn’t touched my eggs by the time Steve came back. He was wearing shoes now, and seemed generally more energetic. Almost like he’d had a huge cup of coffee and a nice make out session. The ladder physically pained me to imagine, but my point still stands. “You’re not hungry?” he asked as he sat down next to me at the counter.  
“Ah, not really, no,” I replied quickly, maybe a bit too. “But I’m sure they’re great eggs.’ I rushed out in addition, he smiled.  
“I know you aren’t a breakfast person, I knew that. It was just wishful thinking.” I smiled back at him, and looked back to my phone as Peter responded with “I’ll be by at like three, if that’s cool,” along with about eight emojis.  
“So, kind of random, but can my friend come by later today?” I asked, he nodded and looked over at me.  
“A friend, huh? What’s her name?”  
“His name is Peter, and I don’t like him like you’re probably thinking I like him, I swear.” his smile fell. I smiled nervously.  
“I guess he can come over, but you have to keep your door open. All the way.” his voice was stern, but not harsh.  
“Yeah, yeah, of course.” he nodded in approval.  
“I’m glad you’re making friends,” he said with a smile.  
“Me too.” We sat in silent for a few minutes before Steve stood up again. I raised an eyebrow at him and he just smiled again.  
“Do you wanna get outta here?”  
“Sure,” I responded as I stood up. “Where are we going?”  
“I was thinking central park.” 

“What are you doing?!” Steve called up at me. Currently I was halfway up a tree, trying to get to the frisbee that someone had lost to it’s branches. The person who lost it was nowhere to be seem, I mean, it was eight o’clock on a Saturday morning (prime cartoon time), so the area was pretty bare.  
“I’m getting that frisbee!” I yelled back, he was laughing at me, I could hear it. “Hey! Don’t laugh at me! I’ve never played frisbee before!” he didn’t stop laughing as the words left my mouth, but at that point I was even with the frisbee. There wasn’t a clear path to the frisbee, so it took a little finagling to get to it, but I got there.  
I feel the need to preface the next part with one fact; I was only about six or eight feel up in the tree, in fact, it was a fairly small tree to in general.  
As I grabbed the frisbee, my left foot slipped off of the branch it was on, followed by my right foot, which resulted in my following out of the tree, and landing face first on the ground. It all happened so fast that I didn’t have time to process it as it was happening, all I was able to process was the pain in the entirety of my face.  
“A-ha-ha-ha, SHIT!” I was crying my eyeballs out, which was unusual for me, and I had yet to roll over from where I landed.  
“Hey, hey, hey, hey!” Steve was at my side in a second, which wasn’t surprising. “Gia, honey, what hurts?” I was still crying.  
“My glasses, you have to get my glasses. I think these broke.” I was right, I knew I was. The lense had either popped out or shattered; I could tell the second that I felt breeze on my face. I had packed my regular glasses in my bag, just in case something of similar nature happened.  
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Where are they?”  
“My bag, Steve. My bag.” Our bags were on the opposite side of the tree where we could keep an eye on them, being that were were in the city, so he was able to get them fairly quickly.  
I had sat up against the tree by the time that Steve had returned with my glasses, and the second he handed them to me I took off the frames of my sunglasses and put on the regular pair, and opened my eyes the best that I could. My left eye was on it’s way to being swollen, but the right one seemed okay-ish.  
Steve drove me to a hospital, which took way longer than it probably should have, and they had results within an hour. The doctor said that I was lucky, and that there were a lot of things that could have happened; I could have broken my neck, lost teeth, or bit my tongue off, in fact, I could have broken a number of things. I had a small fracture in my “supraorbital (brow) ridge,” and I had completely broken my nose. The woman who reset my nose, and gave me the little piece of tape thing, told me that it would probably always be a little bit crooked, and while it was heeling it would bruise. A decent amount of my face was bruised, most of which was caused by the break and the sunglasses pushing into my face. I had a pretty defiant black eye (the left one), but that was it, and I was pretty lucky.  
We tried to called Tony from the waiting room to tell him what had happened, but we were met with a voicemail, and assumed that he was in a meeting. I honestly didn’t think that a broken nose was that big of a deal, after awhile the pain dies down, and I started breathing somewhat better, but Steve was beyond freaked. He kept apologizing over and over again, even though he didn’t do anything, and he kept glancing nervously at me when he thought I wasn’t looking.  
Once everything was back where it needed to be, they let us leave. Everything included a decent amount of paperwork, but Steve did it without complaining, which is more than I could have managed.  
“You wanna go get coffee? I think we’ve earned it.” Steve offered as we were walking out of the hospital. To be honest, I kind of wanted to go home, but Steve looked like he needed coffee.  
“Why don’t we get something to go somewhere?” I suggested. It was the best of both worlds.  
“Perfect,” 

We got back to the tower around eleven, Steve had already finished his coffee, and I was still working on a tea. It was still kind of warm out, so I was convinced both of us were crazy for ordering hot drinks, but it worked out pretty well in the end.  
“Holy shit, Gia,” Natasha muttered as we walked in. She and Clint were sitting on the couch, watching some reality TV show. Natasha had red hair about the length of mine, with less volume. I wasn’t close enough to see the color of her eyes, but they looked pretty dark. She had an athletic build and was wearing sweatpants, which was surprising to me, but seemed not to phase Steve. She just seemed like a jean type of person to me.  
“You look like ass,” Clint added as he looked up at me. His hair wasn’t styled, but looked like it normally was, and he was wearing jeans. The two of them weren’t sitting right next to each other, but they were close enough to high five if they needed to (for whatever reason).  
“Gee thanks,’ I responded, pushing my glasses up, even though they hadn’t moved since I’d put them back on at the hospital. The lense of my sunglasses had cracked, so I was stuck with my regular glasses. Everything was bright and it was starting to give me a headache.  
“What the hell happened?” Clint had stood up now and was walking over to where we were standing. We had taken a few steps into the living room, and he met us halfway.  
“She fell out of a tree,” Steve answered, and Clint tried to hide his amusement but I knew it was there. Natasha gave me sympathetic look from the couch, and Clint ruffled my hair before returning to his seat next to Nat.  
By the time I got to my mirror I had bruises forming around my eyebrows, eyes, and my nose. I looked kind of like some sort of racoon. The frames of my glasses kind of hid some of it, but it was still very much visible. I did, as Clint has mentioned, “look like ass.”  
I changed into a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, deciding on a long afternoon of checking my phone and waiting for Peter to come over. I wasn’t entirely sure what we were going to do, we’d probably end up watching a movie or something stupid and dumb like that. We were both stupid and dumb, so it was fitting.  
Tony came back around two thirty and halfway freaked out about my face, but that was because he hadn’t checked his phone in about three hours, but once it was all cleared up he stopped going crazy. It was a whole ordeal, but all in all it went pretty smoothly.  
Peter showed up at exactly two, and he came in through my window, which was kinda funny to watch but not at all surprising.  
“Ho-o-oly shit,” Peter’s voice held very little shock, but he did seemed actually concerned.  
“I’m fine,” I blurted out before he could say anything else.  
“I know you’re fine, you just look like a raccoon that got ran over by a car.” he was laughing slightly, and I appreciated the fact that he didn’t try to hide it.  
“Don’t I?” he laughed as he threw himself down onto my bed and sprawled out. “You’re house is great, man.” he smiled and sat up again. I noticed his shirt as he did.  
“Peter?”  
“Mmhhmm?”  
“Does your shirt say ‘Witch! Duck off,’ or am I losing my mind?” he laughed and nodded his head hysterically.  
“That’s exactly what it says..”  
“Yeah, no, I got that.” he smiled.  
“So, I brought The Trilogy, and we’re watching it.” he said after a second of silence. Spending this much time with Parker was kind of strange, considering we hadn’t really hung out much prior.  
“The Trilogy? As in like, Star Wars?”  
“Energia Not-Summers, please tell me you’ve seen the Star Wars Trilogy,” his eyes widened and his face muscles got all tight.  
“I’m not really into watching movies…” then he made this squeal like noise that made him sound like a deflating bouncy house.  
“OHMYFREAKINGGODGIA!”  
“It’s not like I could really watch anything at all” I was decently confused at this point. Was Star Wars some strange part of whatever the fuck American culture way? Was it a right of passage? What was the big deal? 

“Oh my God.” I was in some kind of Star Wars induced coma. We’d been sitting on the floor or Steve and Tony’s bedroom watching Star Wars for the past six and a half hours, it was well past eight o’clock, and I hadn’t moved for six hours. “Peter this has to be some sort of torture. What are you punishing me for?” We had watched all three movies, and they were decent, but I hadn’t moved or eaten in six hours. SIX!  
Peter pouted. “You didn’t like them?”  
“They were fine, but, Jesus…” I was incapable of putting complete sentences together. That’s how tired and hungry I was.  
“We can revisit this later, I have to get home.”  
“Yeah, alright. I’ll walk you out.” I stood up, and gave him a hand getting up. We’d been sitting so long that just standing hurt.  
“Thanks boo…” I looked at him wearily.  
“Boo?  
“You are boo.” He smiled at me, and then I grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the elevator. “I could just go out the window,” he suggested, but I didn’t let go.  
“This is easier for everyone-”  
“-Peter?” the elevator had opened, and Tony was standing in front of us. I wasn’t sure how Peter and Tony knew each other, but I was curious to find out.  
“Uh, hey, Mr. Stark,” my relatively short friend smiled up at my relatively short guardian, and I just looked between the two of them, dumbfounded.  
“You two?” I asked as I gestured between them with my hands.  
“Oh, yeah, Peter interned for me.” I raised an eyebrow.  
“I did a few fancy back flips and then Steve beat me up.” My jaw dropped, and Tony just stood there. “It’s cool though now, everything is fine.”  
“You go to mutant school now, or…” Tony didn’t even acknowledge my shock.  
“Um, yes, yes sir.” he smiled again.  
“Well, glad you’re keeping good company.” he nodded at Peter and then walked away.  
Peter and I boarded the elevator and we rode almost to the bottom in silence. “Wait,” I muttered. The elevator had just reached the ground level. “Steve beat you up?”


	7. The One Who Relapses

“See ya Friday,” I yelled back to Tony’s open car window as I jumped out of his car. He waved to me and then tore up the drive as he sped away. It had been a dull weekend of binge watching crappy movies on Netflix, and as much as I hate to admit it, I missed this goddamned school. I was wearing jeans and a flannel, a look that I decided was good for me, and my hair was shoved up in a beanie that Logan would tell me to take off if Hank didn’t beat him to it.   
The swelling in my face had gone down but the bruises were darker than they were Saturday. I had been wearing the clear glasses since the whole tree thing, and I had actually convinced Tony to get me here early so that I could get my sunglasses to Hank before first period.   
Hank gave my this whole lecture about how I’d broken my glasses and I’d only had them a week. Then he went on and on about how many times Scott had broken his. Then he told me to go to class because he was busy, so I sauntered off to his classroom, because I had him first period. 

“You should go get something to eat. Come back when you’ve eaten.”   
“I ate a four course meal in your science class this morning.” I retorted. That statement was a lie, but I knew he wouldn’t question it.   
“I guess I missed that.” he flipped through my notebook and then wrote me a few new pages of crap to translate. I stood and watched him as he did it. “These are all correct, which I honestly expected them to be. Get these pages to me before you go home Friday and I’ll give you another page or so.” he was talking really fast, like he was trying to get me out of his office, so I left, new glasses and new translations in hand.   
“Peter told me you fucked up your face, and ho-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-oly shit was he right,” Ollie was leaning against the wall when I walked out of Hank’s office. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail, and she was wearing her usual t-shirt, leggings, and shorts.   
“I fell out of a tree…” I murmured in defeat.   
“You fell out of a tree?” she raised her right eyebrow. “That is just the saddest fucking thing I’ve ever heard. Oh my God.” she nudged me in the arm, and then started dragging me down the hall. “Have you eaten?” she asked. I nodded my head and picked up my pace.  
“I ate in Hank’s office, while he was writing my language homework.” That was a lie, and she probably knew it to, but she just frowned and kept on walking. I hadn’t eaten anything since the bagel I had on Saturday when I got coffee with Steve, but there’s no way in hell that she could have possibly known that. “Steve made me one of him world famous turkey sandwiches.” I added. That bit was true.   
“Well, I haven’t, so I’m going to go get something. Come with me?” It was insane to me this level of friendship after so little time, but I didn’t have any objections.   
“What did they make today?”   
“Crap, per usual.I’m gonna bust open Logan’s liquor cabinet.”   
“Ollie,”   
“I’m gonna steal an apple from my OWN fruit bowl, Jesus.” She smiled at me as he led me up a flight of stairs in the direction of what I assumed was her room.   
“Yes, because the old, disgusting food you have in your room is better than what our poor lunch ladies made.” 

“Gia, you have to eat,” It had been almost exactly twenty-four hours since our last lunchtime shenanigan, and we were currently sitting outside with The Peters and Scott, who looked up at me in confusion nearly the second that she said it.   
“Are you not eating?” Scott asked, holding out his chips to me.   
“Jesus Scott, I’m eating. Not right now, because I got hungry an hour ago and ate like, an entire can of pringles.   
“Yeah, okay.” he smiled at me, seemingly convinced, and he turned back to Peter Maximoff, who hadn’t stopped talking to Scott when he started talking to me.   
“Gia,” Ollie’s voice was hushed, so that Peter, Peter, and Scott couldn’t hear her, and I knew it. “Don’t lie to me. Did you eat today?”  
“Yeah, pringles last period.”   
“Okay…” she leaned back away from me and turned back towards the guys. “Did Gia tell you guys that she fell out of tree like a goddamn acorn?” they all nodded, and Scott smiled.   
“I’m just glad that she didn’t die,” he said before taking a bite of his sandwich.   
“Yeah, me too.” Peter Maximoff had already taken a bite of his sandwich, and was talking with him mouth full. And after a few minutes he added; “What did I just agree to?”  
“Joining our band,” Peter muttered with confidence, I swear it was the weirdest tone of voice ever. “Gia and the Peters.”   
“A-a-awesome…” 

“SUMMERS!” the rest of my Tuesday at school passed rather quickly, and the next thing I knew I was walking into detention. The amount of detentions that were going to end up on my record were going to keep me from getting into any number or given colleges.  
“Hey Peter,” I replied as I sat down in my normal seat. There was only one other kid in detention apart from myself and Peter, and I had never met her, but she was sitting in the back doodling lazily in a sketchbook.   
“You okay, Hellgirl?” I scoffed as he asked me the question.  
“Not now that I know that nickname is circulating.”   
“Well, calm down, because Scott called me Quickie for an entire year.” I gave him a fake smile and sat down at my chair, the bell ringing as I did so. So I pulled out my notebook, and started to work on my Science homework.   
“PSSSSSTTTTTT!” The abrupt noise made everyone, including myself turn to look towards Peter. That was about as subtle as he got. I turned back to my work, and the girl in the back seemed to as well. “GEEEEAAAHH!” his voice was getting louder, which concerned me just the tiniest bit, but I still didn’t turn to face him. “Fuckin’ ENERGIA!” he was yelling now, so I turned to him and furrowed my eyebrows in annoyance.   
“Yes?” he sighed.   
“Logan didn’t issue you a detention today.” I sighed.   
“I know Peter, Dr. McCoy issued the detention because I was fifteen minutes late to his class this morning.” I looked up at Hank who nodded in confirmation and then said; “Get back to work you two,” in the most flat voice I’d ever heard Hank use. So I turned back to my science, and began to scribble shit down about ‘Snowball Earth’ and star formation. It was a hoot.   
Detention let out at it’s usual four-thirty, and after I shoved all of my stuff into my bag, I slowly sulked out of the room, alone. Other Peter and I normally walked to the common area and sat around for about an hour, but he had something (or someone) to do, so I was left alone to flail around in my own self-loathing. I ended up back in Hank’s lab, because I finished my language homework at lunch, so I gave that to him, he wrote more, and then he told me to go away, so I did.   
I found Ollie in the library a solid ten minutes later, she was surrounded by an actual mountain of literature. She had on a pair of headphones, Be More Chill style because they weren’t connected to anything, and she was going at a stack of papers. She didn’t look up at me when I sat down, in fact, she only acknowledged my arrival when I poked her on the shoulder. “Oh, hey, Gia.” she said before looking back down to her paper. I assumed that this would happen sooner or later, she was in literally every honors class that existed. Honors History, Honors English, Honors Math, Honors Science, Honors Art, hell, she was a Freshman and she was taking German 2, but that’s because she already knew German.   
“Hard day?” I asked, she scoffed in response.  
“Jesus, I’m gonna be here pat curfew.” I smiled as she wrote something down on her paper.   
“Who the hell are your teachers, and why did they do this to you?”   
“Um… Logan mostly, also Erik, who’s teaching my German class.” I laughed a bit in disbelief.   
“Erik is letting you take German, even though he knows you know German?” She nodded, and then put her pencil down and looked up at me.   
“My first language is Polish, then English, then German. They wouldn’t let me take German 1 because it was too easy. German 2 is about where I am with the language.” Her voice was all so proper and formal, like she was speaking some email or paper and it was weird.   
“Cool,” I stood up as I said it. “I’ll leave you to the madness.”   
“See you around Demon Eyes!” 

I woke up in a daze, my limbs seemed heavy and unmovable, and my eyelids seemed to want to close, but refused to all the same. It didn’t feel real, it felt like I was dreaming, and at any given moment I would open my eyes and wake up.   
I rolled over, my half open eyelids focusing in on my alarm clock as I did so; four-thirty, a.m. Jesus Christ. I had this hatred for early mornings, waking up in them, staying up into them, whatever. They were terrible. I didn’t feel like moving, I didn’t feel like it was worth it to get out of bed, so I didn’t. I lied there, in my bed, eyes half open, until ten o’clock when Ollie started pounding on the door. I still didn’t move to unlock it, because I just couldn’t find the motivation to leave the comfort of my bed sheets.   
“Gia! You missed first period! Are you okay?!” she was yelling pretty loud, in fact, anyone who was on the hall could probably hear her. “Are you on your period?! Cramping?!” I didn’t respond, nor did I care enough to be embarrassed. She didn’t knock again, she didn’t say anything else, she just walked off.   
Five minutes later she returned with Erik, who unlocked the door and opened it, and she just stared at me from the doorway. “It’s not cramps… is it?” I shook my head slowly.   
“Head cold,” I muttered, my voice was hoarse and weak, which worked out extraordinarily well for me. “Death…” Erik huffed out a laugh, that was more or an exhale, from where he stood behind her.   
“I’ll go get Hank,” he offered, backing out of the room slowly. Then he walked away. Ollie laughed and sat down on the end of my bed.   
“Stuff gets weird when he gets sick, so he tends to avoid head cold patients.” She explained. I gave her a thumbs up. “You want me to leave don’t you?”   
“Just a little bit, yeah.” I gave her the fakest smile that I could have possibly given her and she stood up and smiled back.  
“Head colds don’t normally keep people out of school.” And with that sentence, she left. I followed her with my eyes as she strode out of the room, and I felt nothing. It was this overwhelming sense of numbness. I didn’t feel anything. I didn’t care that I’d probably hurt her feelings, or if she knew I was lying. I didn’t care about anything.   
About fifteen minutes later Hank knocked on the door, and then he came in when I didn’t respond because it was still unlocked from earlier. He had in his left hand a tray, balanced perfectly on his palm, which held a glass of water a pill or two and bowl of what looked like soup. “Have you taken your eye medication yet?” I nodded.   
“About an hour ago,” I muttered with a frown. “I hate taking pills, they suck.” He laughed.   
“Well, that is unfortunate because,” he sat the tray on my nightstand. “I have two for you to take right now.” I didn’t move. “Gia, you have to sit up.” I wondered if he did this for everyone who “got sick,” or if I was special for some reason.   
“Hank, do you do this for everyone who gets sick?” I asked, pulling myself hesitantly into a sitting position.   
“I bring them medicine, yeah. The soup, however, is a first.” He told me to take both of the pills, and to stay hydrated, and then he left. I did feel something then. I felt like he cared. Maybe it was because I was, apparently, Alex’s kid, and he and Alex were close, or maybe it was because of all the time that I spend in his office, but I felt like he cared. I didn’t feel anything in response to feeling his caring, but I felt his caring.   
I didn’t eat my soup, because according to Google, chicken noodle soup had 87 calories in it, and that was too many calories. I didn’t take the pills, because I wasn’t actually sick, but I did drink the water, which made me feet heavy, so all in all, I had a fan-fucking-tastic day. I didn’t move much, as far as around the room, I did change positions on the bed, but that was about it. Ollie came back by after classes with my homework, and then she left.   
Nobody else came until about five o’clock, when Charles wheeled himself down the hall and into my partially open room. His face held a twisted look of concern and worry, and he carried nothing with him, no books or bags, or anything. I sat up in my bed as he entered. “He-e-e-e-ey Professor,” I muttered, sounding so unsure with myself that it was actually hilarious.   
“Hello Energia,” he smiled at me and then pushed the door closed. “I heard through the grapevine that you had a wicked head cold,” he raised his left eyebrow skeptically.   
“Yeah, it really sucks,” I muttered, faking a cough. If he was inside my head this was pointless, in fact, it probably was anyway, but I was doing what I could.   
“Energia, would you like to walk with me to my office?” he asked, I shook my head almost as soon as he said it. “Energia,” he leaned his head on his hand. “Come walk with my to my office.” 

“Antidepressants?!” I stood up again, ready to bolt out of this room if I needed to. “I don’t need any GODDAMN antidepressants!”   
“Gia, watch your mouth,”   
“Hank! I’m not mentally ill!” I wanted to scream.   
“Gia,” he wanted me to calm down, I could hear it in his voice, but I didn’t want to calm down. I turned, and my hand was on the doorknob when Charles said;  
“Energia, sit down.” His voice was as calm as ever. “We couldn’t even think about doing anything without speaking to your parents, okay? There is nothing for you to freak out about.” Something about his voice took away the panic that I was experiencing.   
I sat down. “Why do I need them?” Charles sighed and Hank looked at me “stealthily” from where he sat next to me.   
“I’d like to preface this statement by saying that I tend to refrain from reading my students’ minds. I think it’s a complete invasion of privacy, but under the circumstances, I didn’t feel as if I had a better option.” he sighed heavily. “Energia, I found you sitting in your bed, refusing to eat a bowl of soup over eighty-seven calories.” Hank turned his entire body in his seat this time, his eyes wide with sadness.   
“Eighty-seven?” I assumed, based on the way that he said it that Charles hadn’t completely filled him in yet. “Are you sure that you don’t want me to shoot an email to your parents about the possibility of-” I cut him off.  
“I don’t need antidepressants, Hank.”   
“Okay… I won’t bring it up again,” and with that I stood up, and escorted myself out of Charles’ office. 

“Hey loser,” Ollie strode into my room with Parker not three steps behind her. “You feeling better?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Good because Peter just got his license and we’re going to the mall to blow some money.” I laughed a bit under my breath just to make her happy.   
“Um… Peter?” he smiled.   
“I have enough money on me for a food court Big Mac,” he nodded, and I stood up.   
“Give me a minute or so to put on a pair of actual pants.” They nodded and exited the room pretty quickly, and I forced myself out of bed, and walked over to my dresser. I found a pair of jeans, and threw them on with a button down flannel. I then crammed my feet into my boots and grabbed my room key on my way out. I closed the door behind me as I walked out of the room, and then we were off.   
Apparently, Charles had given them expressed permission to leave campus. Ollie said it was due to relentless begging, but I figured that it actually had something to do with my current state of gloom, as he had called it on our walk to his office.   
The drive was like thirty minutes, and although I didn’t take note of the name of the mall it would be decently easy to find online based on the time it took to get there. It was smaller than the mall Wanda and I had gone to all of those weeks ago, but it was decently sized. Parker decided immediately that he was just going to go buy a sixty-nine cent Slurpee and a churro, which I swear is all this kid ate, so we went to the food court, got him a Slurpee and a churro, and then began our adventure.   
Ollie wanted to go to Hot Topic or something, so she dragged us there. The thing about the Hot Topic was that everyone in there was perfect. Ollie, Parker, the cashier, all of the other three customers, and it made me feel like shit. The second I walked in there, I could almost feel their eyes on me, judging me, and it sucked. I felt like dying, and I felt like I couldn’t be in there anymore.   
So I left Peter and Ollie alone and I booked it.   
I didn’t know where I was going, what I was doing, or where I was going to end up, but I knew that I had to leave if I wanted to keep myself sane.   
I walked into Office Depot with a single item in mind; pencil sharpeners. The plan was to buy a few of them, take them back to school with me, unscrew the screws, throw away the plastic holders and keep the blades for less pure activities. It was a fool-proof plan, no one thought that pencil sharpeners are “suspicious” and no one questions it. It’s simple and easy.   
I b-lined towards the pencil supplies the second that I crossed into the store. People gave me strange looks as I rushed to the pencils, but that probably had more to do with my unruly appearance and my urgency to get to the pencils (of all things).   
I found a pack of small ones shaped like stars and hearts. There were maybe seventeen in the packet, all seeming pretty straight. It wouldn’t have mattered to me if they weren’t straight, but it was an added bonus.   
They were in total, three dollars and twelve cents (off of my emergency credit card). I payed hesitantly and then walked back to the food court, where I didn’t buy anything, but sat down at a table in the dead center. I sat at that table until Ollie and Peter stumbled up to my table an hour later. They were out of breath, kinda sweaty, and Ollie had panicked bug eyes.   
“WHAT THE FUCK, ENERGIA?!” she was screaming. Most of the people in the food court turned to look at us. Their faces holding confused looks, some amused.   
“What?” my voice was relatively calm in my own ears.   
“You fucking disappeared!” Parker was standing behind her awkwardly and it made me smile.   
“I needed pencil sharpeners. Inktober is coming up,” I muttered defensively. “And I didn’t necessarily want to spend my entire life fangirling over Supernatural backpacks.” she sighed in annoyance.   
“Jesus, Gia. We were supposed to keep an eye on you,” she said it and then her eyes got really wide. “Fuck, that’s… that’s not what I meant.” I stood up.   
“Are you guys ready to leave? Because I have everything I need,” Parker nodded.   
“Let’s go,”   
We arrived back at the school at a quarter past six, just in time to shove some shit food into our mouths before we had to go shower.   
I left them at the door and bolted straight to my bedroom, pencil sharpeners in hand. I made it to my room in record time, and locked the door behind me.


	8. The One Where It's Officially An Issue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, I've been kinda depressed recently, so this is depressed (and kinda short), so expect more chapters like this. 
> 
> Also, somebody's got low blood sugar. *cough* Gia *cough* 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuse typos and shortness and horrid writing

Halloween was quickly approaching when Ollie approached me about my costume. Typically, I don’t dress up, I never had anywhere to be on Halloween, nor anyone to spend it with. It was the weekend before ‘Xavier’s Trick or Treating for Gifted Youngsters,’ when it was brought to my attention that I “had” to dress up. It was three days before the event that Ollie and I piled into a car with Parker, who had reluctantly agreed to drive us to the mall again, and departed to, well, the mall again.  
We had decided that I was going as Scott, which I loved the very idea of, and she would go as Jean, which she loved the idea of. At Xavier’s the teachers had candy in their classrooms, and since Scott and Jean were so famous, and I had the glasses and she had the hair, it seemed like the perfect costume idea. Of course, Scott was out of town, which made stealing his weird leather jacket so easy it was insane, especially with the help of Maximoff who was I had wrapped around my pinkie finger. With that being said, all I really needed was a navy t-shirt and a pair of weird loose fitting mens jeans. I swear to God, that’s all he ever fucking wore, it was so stupid.  
We ended up in and Old Navy, which was the perfect store to buy Jott clothing, considering they were both middle-aged soccer moms. And since finding my way around Old Navy wasn’t a tremendously difficult task, Ollie and I found what we needed pretty quickly. We tried everything on, much to my dismay, and then we payed. Tony had gotten me an actual debit card, which only had like fifty bucks on it, because he was “sick and tired” of me charging the emergency one.  
Ollie and were on our way to meet Parker in the food court when she turned to me, looked me up and down and said; “Gia, you look like you’re being starved. I didn’t want to say anything, but you look pathetic.” her voice remained calm, but I was getting angrier and angrier. Who the hell does she think she is anyway?  
“Well, I’m not being starved, Olivia. What the fuck is wrong with you?” I stopped walking and turned to face her completely.  
“What the fuck is wrong with me?” she threw her hands up in the air, before pulling my jacket off of my shoulders. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” she gestured to me violently, and I was basically foaming at the mouth. “What do you fucking see when you look in the mirror?! Because I see the ghost of the amazing human being who used to be my friend!” she was yelling, and people around the mall were staring.  
“Fuck you,” and then I turned away from her and started walking towards the food court again. I wanted to see Scott, I wanted to be around Scott. Scott understood, but he’d been gone for over a week now, for some family thing in Ohio, and I don’t know if I’d been suffering from Scott withdrawal or what, but I’d been more agitated since he left.  
“What the hell just happened?” Parker asked as I walked up to his table. “Where’s Ollie?”  
“She’s right behind me, let’s go.” 

I was halfway down the hall to my bedroom when Maximoff found me. He had Scott’s jacket clutched in his left hand and a smirk plastered on his face. “I ran to Ohio for you,” he said with a grin as he shoved the jacket into my arms.  
“Fuck, Peter. I though he’d left it here.” I shrugged the jacket on over the hoodie I was wearing, and smiled up at him.  
“No, it was with him in Ohio, he’ll realize it’s gone when he’s packing tomorrow morning.”  
“We’re in deep shit with Scott Summers, Maximoff…”  
“Yeah, but we’re in deep shit together, Summers.” I punched him lightly on the shoulder.  
“I’ll see you around,” and with that he was gone, and I walked the rest of the way down the hall to my room. Maximoff didn’t changed, and it was great. He didn’t freak out about whether or not I was eating, or if I played hookie, he was just there, he was himself.  
Once I was inside my room I dropped my stuff in the chair by my door and collapsed onto my bed. I could have stayed there for days, without moving, and certainly without eating. I wanted to stay there for days, without moving, without eating, but another day of that would almost definitely end in a call home about antidepressants, and that’s not what I needed.  
I was about to get under the covers when my phone rang, and as much as I didn’t feel like picking it up, it was Scott and what kind of niece would I be if I didn’t. “Hey Scott…”  
“Hey, Ollie called me and-” I hung up, turned off my phone, and shrunk into my pillow. The angst radiating off of me like heat from a fire. 

The Friday of the Halloween celebrations passed slowly and quickly, and then I found myself (dressed as Scott) sitting in the commons, waiting for six o’clock to roll around so I could get this shit over with. I hated Halloween, I mean, free candy was cool as a kid, but the whole ordeal was probably more fun for kids without wings, “Gia?” I looked up from my hands to find Scott standing across the table from me.  
“Hi,” I waved blankly at him, and he just stood there staring at me gaping almost.  
“Hey, are you um…” I looked down at my Scott outfit and then smirked up at him.  
“You? Yeah.” he laughed under his breath before sitting down in the seat across from me. “Ollie is Jean.” I added, to which he laughed again.  
“Never mess with unstable telekinetic teenage girl,” he was still studying me as the words came out of his mouth, and I didn’t understand why. “Do you um… do you wanna take a walk with me?”  
“Where to?”  
“Gia, please…” his voice seemed so unsure, so scared, that I stood up when he did, and followed him down the hall.  
Now, I wasn’t stupid. I’d been to the Professor's office enough times to know that that’s where we were going. I knew that Ollie had called him, and that he was worried. I could deal with the wrath of Charles fucking Xavier if it meant keeping Scott on my goodside. Scott was kind of all I had, birth family wise. He was it, and I needed him (as much as I hate to admit that).  
So, when we stopped in front of the Professor's door, and Scott quickly knocked on it, I wasn’t at all surprised. The door opened quickly, by itself and in seconds. Once it was open, Scott and I realized together that the Professor wasn’t alone, and was in fact with Erik (who was standing next to him on the other side of his desk).  
“Well,” Erik started. “If it isn’t our favorite problem child…” Charles frowned. “And Scott.” I sighed. Had I really made that much of a name for myself?  
“Pay no attention to him, he’s not feeling well. What do you two need?” Charles intercepted, smiling up at the two of us as Erik glared at him.  
“Professor, I don’t think Gia is well-” Scott started, I rolled my eyes as Erik interrupted him.  
“-No shit.”  
“Erik!” Charles corrected rather harshly, whipping his head towards the brooting man. He sighed deeply, before turning back towards us. “As you were saying,”  
“I don’t think she’s eating-”  
“-So?” I interrupted. “Even if I wasn’t eating, which I am, why would it be such a big deal?” By the time I ended the sentence Charles had leaned over onto his hand, his first two fingers resting on his temple. Scott and I both knew what that meant.  
“Thank you Scott, but, would you please leave us?” he flicked his eyebrow up as he asked the question, and Scott nodded in response before slipping out of the room. “Energia, I am worried about you and your well being. Your thoughts are alarming, and frankly I am hesitant to let you leave this office.”  
“Really, Charles, um, sir, I’m fine. I know what they’re saying, but I am fine. Can I go?” he sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose.  
“I’m going to phone your parents, alright? I expect to see you after classes Monday. Enjoy your weekend.”  
“You too,” I said as I stood up, and although I didn’t want him to call Steve (and definitely not Tony) I didn’t feel like arguing with that pompous telepathic ass-wipe. 

“Where are you taking me?” I asked as Maximoff pulled me away from the school.  
“The city. Speak now or forever hold your peace.” he responded as he picked me up, his smile truly reaching his eyes. That was another thing I liked about him.  
“Let’s get out of here,” and with that we took off, arriving smack-dab in the middle of Times Square within the minute. “Thank the gods for you,” I said through the dizziness and he smiled. “Now what are we doing?”  
“I don’t know, whatever.” We had started walking then, and as we turned the corner he put his arm halfway around my shoulder. Fuck? What the fuck? But I couldn’t really register all the way what was happening.  
“Cool.” And as the words left my mouth I started to get dizzier, and then it went black.


	9. The One Where the Poetry Starts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is still angsty, but it's better. I'm trying here. 
> 
> The poems are bad, but are (in order):  
> \- Thing   
> \- I Am Energy  
> \- Destruction  
> \- Thing 2

“Gia!” I could hear his voice; Maximoff. I could see the blur outline of his head above me, and behind him a few others. “Gia, can you hear me?!” I nodded frantically, and he was smiling when I was able to focus on his face. He looked like an angel with all the light flooding my eyes from behind him.   
“You need to take her glasses off and check her pupils-” someone from the small crowd shouted instructions up to Peter, who’s lap my head was resting on, and they moved forward to me, reaching for my glasses. “You touch her and I’ll break you like a fucking twig, you got it?” they backed away slowly. “Where did you live?” he asked me, his eyes held more panic that I thought Maximoff was capable of. I slowly gave him my address (as I was having trouble remembering it, and I was home in seconds.   
And after we got through security, with help from J.A.R.V.I.S, I found myself collapsed on the sofa. Peter stood there awkwardly until Tony came in and told him to leave. Pietro was out, so the two Maximoff’s didn’t get to meet, which made me (in my poor state) sad enough to cry, which freaked Tony out, so Tony went and got Steve. Thinking about it now, there were other things behind the tears, but I didn't see that then.   
After about five minutes of Steve trying to calm me down as I sobbed, Tony finally asked the million dollar question; “Why are you home early?” I sat up and Steve looked at him, eyebrows furrowed. “And who the hell was that boy you were with?”   
“Boy?” Steve asked, turning his confused gaze to me.   
“That was Peter Maximoff, he and I were running around Times Square. He’s a friend.” My words were slow, uncertain.”And then I um-”  
“Wait a second, Times Square? You were supposed to be at school.”   
“Tony…” Steve shot Tony a look, and then smiled at me softly, unsure. “And then what happened, kiddo?” I closed my eyes. Did Charles call them already? Was Charles even going to call them?   
“Um… did Char-Professor Xavier call you guys?” I asked, again slow and uncertain. I wasn’t dizzy or nauseous anymore, just tired and guilty.   
“Yeah, honey.” Steve replied. “We were going to talk to you after we picked you up tonight.”   
“Well, I um, I passed out.” I cleared my throat. “And I think it’s, um, it’s because I haven’t eaten in about a week…”   
“Oh my FUCKING God, Energia!” Tony exclaimed as he walked away from us and towards the TV. “What the fuck are you thinking?! That you aren’t pretty enough? Gia, you’re, you're..." he turned so his back was facing us. "You're perfect!” his voice got really quite as he said it.   
“Tony-” Steve Started  
“Don’t ‘Tony’ me Steven! She hates herself! She hates the person that gets me out of bed in the morning! She hates our daughter, Steve!”   
“I’m sorry…” I wasn’t sorry, there was nothing to be sorry for. I hadn’t killed anyone, I hadn’t done anything that was unusual or weird. I hadn't done anything.   
Tony and Steve looked at each other for a few moments, exchanging silent words, and then Steve put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me to his chest. “It’s okay, we- it’s okay.” I didn’t say anything, I barely breathed. I just side hugged Steve and looked up at Tony. He sighed and then sat down on the sofa next to me, and I sat up as he sat.   
“I’m sorry.”   
“I know.” he seemed tired, like he could collapse in bed any minute.   
“I’ll be right back,” Steve said as he stood up from his spot, Tony nodded to him and then he walked out of the room.   
I didn’t know how to feel about the whole thing, it confused me, scared me, but I didn’t regret anything. I wasn’t really sorry. “You know I feel like shit, right?”  
“Why?”  
“I should have seen it, this thing, this, this thing that’s wrong with you. I should have noticed. I should have been there and I wasn’t, Gia, and I feel like absolute shit for that.” I wanted to hug him, I wanted to go back and not tell them anything. I wanted to make him feel better.   
“Nothing’s wrong with me.” Great fucking going Gia. What the fuck was wrong with me?   
“Gia…”   
“Seriously, Tony, what the fuck is wrong with me?”   
“Gia!”   
“Sorry…” my voice was hostile, and he knew it, so we sat in silence glaring at each other until Steve returned a few minutes later. With him, he had an old leather bound notebook of sorts. It looked semi used, and he was smiling wide when he handed it to me. “What is this?” I asked, taking it from him sheepishly.   
“This is one of my old sketchbooks, and um, it’s for you to use. You can doodle or write in it, and you know…” he smiled again. “Self expression.” I laughed a bit under my breath and looked at it wearily. I didn’t draw, and my English was mediocre at best. What the hell was I going to do with it?  
“Thanks, Steve. I love it.” I did love it, that was true. He had sketched in it, I got to have it, it made me feel. I don’t know what, but there was something and that was an improvement.   
After a few more minutes of silence, and glaring, and apologizing, I excused myself to my bedroom, sketchbook in hand. My room was exactly as I had left it Monday morning; manageable yet messy. I sighed, and after plopping down on my bed, opened the sketchbook to the first page. On it were the words “Steven G. Rogers” written in the most beautiful cursive I had ever seen in my whole life. Following that were several pages of sketches, colored drawing, and watercolor artworks. Some were of war, some were of Tony, Wanda, scenery. One was of me. They were all delicate, carefully sketch and erased. They were beautiful, and they made me want to create beautiful things.   
The majority of the pages in the book were empty, or only lightly used. They were there for me, and they were for whatever shitty drawings and even shittier poetry I could create. If I could create any.   
So I dug through my desk drawer, found a pen, and I started writing. 

‘Thing:   
I’ve only ever written poetry in classes  
For Charles or for language class with Hank  
I do not know what I’m doing   
But it’s not like I ever really did, so

There is this THING, that's wrong with me  
I don't see it  
I can’t and I won’t   
Because it hurts too much to watch myself hurt’

Wanda walked in about five minutes later, a bowl balanced in her hand like she was a chef. “Hi, kid…” she said quietly as she shut the door behind her.   
“Hey, what’s that?” I asked, raising my eyebrows towards the bowl in her hand.   
“Dinner.” she smiled softly, it seemed fake. “I made it myself.” She handed it to me and I took it; spaghetti, like four-hundred calories worth of spaghetti.   
“Thanks, Wanda. It smells really good.” I added, sitting the bowl down on my nightstand, hoping to God she wouldn’t notice.   
“So Pietro is acting weird, and I think it has something to do with that Peter kid that brought you home tonight." A smirk played at her lips as she said the words.   
"Why would that bother him?"  
“Because he cares about you.” she laughed to herself a bit before adding. “And he cares if you’re dating.” I snorted as the words left her mouth.   
“We aren’t dating…” He’ll never go for a girl like me.   
“Pietro thinks you are.”  
“Fucking hell….”   
Wanda and I talked for about an hour, then we did each other's nails (like true females). Her fingernails were short but well taken care of, and mine were short but bitten, broken, and bruised. She left without making sure I had eaten the spaghetti.  
The second she was gone I was back at my ‘poetry’ 

‘I Am Energy:  
I am made of energy, I am energy  
Billions of cells, molecules, atoms and pieces  
Complexity, diversity, a basket case, etc.

Am I energy? Although my name suggest it  
Am I more than broken dreams   
Built on broken promises, built on broken faith

Where is that energy? When I’m lying in bed   
When I’m talking to Peter, or being a friend  
Where does it go, during the day and at night  
It is all gone, nothing in sight’

Pietro was the next person to visit my bedroom, he seemed worried, and it made me sick. “You know,” he started after a few minutes of small talk. “Wanda worked hard to make that spaghetti for you, it’s a shame for it to go to waste like that.”   
“Pietro-”  
“-I’m not leaving, Energia, until it’s gone.” I nodded, and picked up the (now cold) spaghetti. “And while you’re eating, we can talk about this guy who brought you home tonight.”   
“His name is Peter, he’s just a friend.”   
“Tony told me that that’s not how you two were looking at each other.”   
“Did he now.” I wasn’t surprised. Peter was what Tony took away from this whole thing.  
“I don’t know, I guess I trust your word over Tony’s.” he flopped back on my bed and I took a bit of that stupid, calorie full, spaghetti.   
“Peter is fast lie you’re fast. We were goofing off in Times Square, and I passed out. That’s why he brought me home.” his expression didn’t change as I said it.   
“Yeah, Tony filled me in. That’s why I’m here.”   
He stayed until I had eaten every bite of spaghetti in that bowl, and then he left with the bowl. But even after he left, I sat there and though. I though about the calories, and I thought about what Tony said, and I thought about Peter Maximoff. I though and I though. I though until I didn’t think I could think anymore. I worked my mind around in circles, trying to come to a solid conclusion, but I couldn’t find one. 

‘Destruction:  
I am surrounded by chaos  
Be it the people around me, or the words in my head  
I am surrounded by violence   
Be in the words I say to myself, or the actions I take to shut them down’

I wrote myself in circles. The same words in the same melodies flowing from the ballpoint to the paper. I didn’t know who I was, what I was. I didn’t know what I felt so numb. So content in the madness. Then I realized. 

“NO!” It was a quarter past two in the morning, and I was on the phone with Scott. I’d called him in a panic, he answered half asleep, not fully aware of what he’d gotten himself into. “Really?” I laughed, a real solid laugh.   
“What the fuck is wrong with me, Scott?”   
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Peter?! Really? He’s not even cute.” Scott seemed so confused, like he didn’t understand how it was possible for someone to have a crush on Peter Maximoff.   
“God help me…” I muttered, half expecting Scott to hang up on me.   
“God help me too, Energia.” his tone of voice held a certain level of amusement that I didn’t understand until he said; “Yes, I’ll be your wing-man.” and then hung up on me then and there. I smiled into my phone, and then turned it off. 

‘Thing 2:  
I do not know how to write poetry  
I don’t know how to exist in contentment  
I don’t know how to exist  
And this THING that is wrong   
I don't believe it's there   
Even so, if it is   
I don't have to care

But I know, that the rhyming will come  
And the rain shall pass  
And the day Scott screws me over, shall be his fucking last'

**Author's Note:**

> Live long & prosper, fishes


End file.
